


Of Heroes and Villains

by lokidoki9



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, most Marvel characters have a cameo at some point!, oneshots, sometimes more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-11-04 21:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17906285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidoki9/pseuds/lokidoki9
Summary: A variety of oneshots (mostly) between the reader and our favourite Marvel guys. Requests are welcome!I have uploaded these from my Tumblr account. They're actually pretty lengthy now that I think about it, but I hope you enjoy!





	1. Lucky Ones (Bucky)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you find exactly what you’re looking for when you’re not even looking - the real challenge is making sure Tony doesn’t find out.

Tony couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed as he watched the scene play out before him.

It had been over two months since Steve had brought home his latest stray, though he really should have seen it coming. James Buchanan Barnes was the best thing since sliced bread with the way Steve sang his praises. Tony understood Steve’s need to make sure his best friend was well looked after and safe - he’d do the exact same thing for Rhodey (in fact, he did do the exact same thing).

But that didn’t mean he had to like the fact that a former HYDRA assassin had taken up residence in his tower. Tony didn’t trust very easily, which was understandable given his history, but having someone so dangerous so close to those he cared about was something that would take some getting used to.

Which brought him to his current discomfort.

In the two months that Barnes had been around, you’d probably only spoken to him twice that Tony knew of - the day he arrived, and during Steve’s birthday get-together a few weeks back. You had been with Tony since the very beginning of his Ironman days, coming to him fresh out of college at the tender age of 17. Fast-forward ten years later and he still saw you as that kid he needed to protect at all costs.

So seeing Barnes send a small smile your way as you poured him some freshly brewed coffee made Tony’s left eye twitch. He wasn’t blind, or stupid for that matter, and there was… _something_ …in the way Barnes looked at you.

You never had luck in the love department, and Tony knew you had long ago decided to focus on your work instead. Not many men out there enjoyed being in a relationship with a woman leagues smarter than them. But you were okay, you knew your time would come eventually - or at least you hoped it would. Tony had Pepper, Steve had Sharon, Natasha and Bruce were still dancing around each other, and Clint was married, so you figured it was only a matter of time.

Tony knew all of this, you confided in him. But the thought of a killer being that man, the one you had waited for, terrified Tony. The last thing he wanted was anyone hurting you, regardless of intent, and he didn’t want anyone letting you down either - you deserved the best.

Barnes…well, being with him could either mean you were the safest person in the world, or the opposite. 50/50 was never a chance Tony liked to take.  

“Make it three, kid.”

Your eyes shot over to the doorway and you sent Tony a smile before pouring him a cup too. You didn’t notice the quick glare Tony sent Bucky’s way, but it wasn’t hard to feel the tension in the room.

“I uh, I should probably go…” Bucky quietly excused himself when the silence stretched to uncomfortable lengths, but he still managed a small smile when you turned to look at him apologetically.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He raised his mug in indication, before making his way back to the elevator.

Tony yelped when he felt a stinging slap connect with his arm. He rubbed the sore spot and met your unimpressed glare with an affronted look of his own.

“What the hell was that for?!”

“I could ask you the same thing!” You threw your arms up in exasperation.

“What?” Tony shrugged defensively, but you both knew he was well aware of what you were talking about.

“Would it kill you to be a little nicer to him, Tony?”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, and moved around you to snatch up his coffee.

“Tony!” You scolded when he ignored you.

Tony sighed, before turning to look at you. His lips twitched when he noticed the way you were looking at him. Hands on your hips, lips pursed, and the same flat look Pepper had sent his way a million times. Man, she taught you well.

Tony’s shoulders slumped when you pointedly cocked a brow.

“Oh, c’mon…we have an _assassin_ in the house, you can’t blame me for being a little cautious.”

You nodded in consideration. “There’s cautious, and then there’s _mean_ , Tony.”

“I’m not _mean_.” He scoffed as if the very idea was ridiculous.

“You are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“What are we, twelve?” Tony huffed.

“Well, with the way you’re behaving…“ You trailed off with a shrug.

“Alright, alright! I’ll try to be nicer-”

“Good-“

“If-“ He cut you off with a pointed look. “If you steer clear for the time-being. I don’t want him near you until I’m certain there aren’t any screws loose up there.” He vaguely gestured to his head.

You didn’t even bother scolding him, settling instead for an eyeroll as he left the kitchen.  

* * *

“Hey.”

You were slipping into your heels and about to head out when you looked up with a welcoming smile.

“Hi- Woah, you clean up nice, Sarge.”

Despite Tony’s words a few days ago, you hadn’t gone out of your way to avoid him. Tony didn’t know how close the two of you had become, and you wanted to keep it that way. That man was too protective for his own good, and Bucky Barnes had needed a friend the moment he stepped foot in the Tower.

Bucky ducked his head at your teasing tone, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “You think so?”

Yeah, he may have put a little extra effort into his appearance - it wasn’t everyday that he allowed himself to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman. In fact, the last time he could remember feeling anything remotely similar was way back in the ‘40s.

The Winter Soldier didn’t exactly prioritise dating.

“Sure do.” Your sweet laugh brought another smile to his face. “Got a hot date?” You cocked a brow knowingly.

“Sure do.” He parroted with a small smirk. “Have to drop this file off for Steve first though.”

Bucky smiled widely at the thought of what was to come, but you could see how nervous he was in the way it quickly faded.

“You okay?” You frowned.

Bucky found his shoulder sagging underneath the gentle hand place there. There was a time when he would tense, when particularly rough handlers forced him down into a chair. _That_ chair. But your gentle touch had never been forceful, nor had it ever made him feel unsafe. You were always so careful around him, always willing to help in whatever way you could.

_She’s a goddamn angel, is what she is_ , he thought.

Bucky’s pale eyes flickered between your own for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell you the truth.

“Honestly? I don’t think I’ve been this nervous since…” He chuckled lightly, “well, ever.”

“Don’t be, you’re a great guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” You shot him a bright and encouraging smile, a smile that made his insides turn to jelly, and tongue turn to lead. _God_ , the effect you had on him…like a ray of sunshine illuminating all of the things he hated about himself and offering the warmth he needed to face the cold of the winter.  

Bucky shook his head with a small smile. “I’m the lucky one, my girl is _perfect_.”

“I thought nobody was perfect?” You cocked a brow.

“Then she’s as close to it as anyone can get.”

He smiled as soon as he heard that sweet laugh again. It was quickly becoming his favourite sound.

“Alright, Romeo, you better get going or you’ll be late.”

You rolled your eyes in good humour, but you were glad to see him smiling. He’d been through more than you could imagine, and even something as simple as a smile was enough to make him seem like a whole different person.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.” Bucky stepped into the elevator, hitting the button for the ground floor.

“Oh, and uh…” His hand shot out to hold the doors open for a moment longer, and you looked over curiously. His eyes softened. “You look beautiful.”

You looked down at your outfit with a bashful smile that mirrored his own earlier.

“Thanks…I got a hot date of my own.” 

* * *

  
**_One month later…_ **

You were late. 2 hours late.

It was weird, you were never late and it was for that reason that Tony felt a hint of worry. It was silly, he knew that, there were plenty of valid reasons for you not showing up, and just because you lived at the Tower and were associated with the Avengers didn’t mean that someone had come up and snatched you from your bed.

It was a paranoia he had to deal with regularly. You were his closest friend, you helped him with his inventions and in earlier years you were there to steer him in the right direction, despite the age gap between you. You were mature and sweet, always willing to help someone in need - now that he thought about it, you were like a smaller, nerdier, weaker, Steve.

Everyone knew that you were a particular weakness of Tony’s and he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if it wasn’t always morally correct. You weren’t a superhero but you spent so much time with them that anyone could see how much of a weakness you were for them.

If anything ever happened to you…Tony didn’t know what he would do. _They_ didn’t know what Tony would do.

But it also wasn’t healthy to constantly worry, at least that’s what Pepper and his therapist -Bruce- had once told him. So he rationalised.

You could be sick. Everyone knew not to bother you when you were sick, mainly because you were even more stubborn than usual and any attempt to get you out of your room would usually result in threats of bodily harm.

Or maybe you had forgotten. It was unlikely. You were the reliable type, and you’d never forget to lend a hand when it was needed.

_What else? What would **I** do?_

As soon as the thought raced through his mind he forced it away with a cringe.

The only reason he had ever been so late, that didn’t involve getting lost in his work, was something he never wanted to think about you doing. You were like a little sister to him and he liked to think that you didn’t know what sex was yet.

It was easy enough, considering you never spoke about it. You had never brought a guy home, only ever leaving the Tower to meet your dates - whether that was out of fear of the Avengers scaring him off, or just because you didn’t want to, Tony had no idea. But you weren’t undesirable, even when you were having a lazy day in an oversized sweater with a pencil tucked on your ear. It was cute.

But he had seen it enough times at the events you used to attend with him, the leering and suggestive glances you were completely oblivious to when you cleaned up a bit.  

It brought out a nasty side of him, but Tony never wanted to see you used or hurt.

He knew what it was like, not to be used, but to do the using. As ashamed as he was to now admit it, he had his fair share of one-night-stands that had hoped for more. He hadn’t thought much of it when he (Pepper) was kicking them out of his Malibu home, but when he altered his perspective and put you in their shoes with some asshole mistreating you like that…he hated the thought.

_No_ , he told himself. You were just sick.

“FRIDAY? Where’s Y/N?”

_“I believe she’s in her room, boss.”_

“What’s she doing?”

_“It appears that all outgoing feeds have been disabled.”_

“Hm. Weird.” Tony frowned, exiting the elevator on your floor and making his routine walk to your room.

Before he could even make it within five feet of the door, it slid open and you slipped out.

“Hey, Tony!” You smiled widely.

_Okay, so maybe she’s not sick…_

“Uh, hi.” A reluctant smile spread across his bearded face, one that you knew all too well. He was suspicious, dark eyes darting around your face and assessing you for any signs of…well, you didn’t know what.

You were wearing a baggy sweater, as per usual, and the smile on your face reassured him that all was well.

Noting that you were still in one piece, he crossed his arms over his chest. You knew the look he was sending you, it was the ‘you better have a good explanation for this’, ‘I’m ready to argue’ look. He usually only used it with Steve and sometimes Clint, whenever the archer left his dirty dishes lying around.  

“What uh, what brings you here?” You tried to casually lean against the doorframe, but the action seemed forced even to you. God, you were turning into Peter!

If he wasn’t suspicious before, he sure as hell was now. Tony’s eyes narrowed for a split second before all traces of his curiosity were wiped away in favour of a smile.

“Well, we were supposed to be up-“

“Upgrading the suit!” You finished, cringing when you realised you had forgotten. “Oh man, that was _today_?”

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, but you knew it bothered him. He would never admit it, but you knew him well enough to know that he really enjoyed working together. Your time with him was limited these days, and you felt bad about forgetting.

“It’s fine, I’ll just grab the schematics from you room-“

“NO!” You sidestepped into his path as soon as he moved toward the door.

Tony cocked a brow, head tilting at the panic written all over your face.

“Okay, I played along, now tell me what the hell is going on.”  

“Nothing.” You answered quickly, _too_ quickly.

“Kid…” Tony raised his brows warningly.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat and you sighed. This really wasn’t how you wanted him to find out, but he was persistent and if you didn’t tell him he would barge right in and see it for himself.

“Alright, fine.” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t want to tell you because it’s not finished yet and I wanted it to be a surprise…”

He perked up in attention.

“What is it?”

He loved gifts. Actually that wasn’t true, he couldn’t care less about whatever box of chocolates or bottle of wine someone gifted him, but _your_ presents…they were something special. After the whole Berlin fiasco when Barnes could have probably killed him, you had gifted him a new suit. One lined with vibranium that you were surprisingly quiet about. He had asked about it many times, but your reply was always ‘a friend owed me a favour’.

He let it go eventually, but now there was a new curiosity within him.

“It’s a new shield.”

Tony cocked an unimpressed brow. “A new…shield?”

You nodded with an excited smile. “Yeah! I was thinking, you have so many offensive weapons on the suit, that maybe I should focus on…a force field.”

He looked impressed at the idea, a slow smirk played at his lips.

“Not bad, kid.” Tony nodded in acceptance. “Alright, fine. Impress me.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief the moment the elevator doors shut and Tony was out of sight. With a weary sigh, you shuffled back into your room, making sure to lock the door behind you.

“Close call, huh?”

You perked up at his voice, unaware that he had already finished his shower. Turning around was a bad idea, you realised. You both had things to do, places to be, but the towel hanging low on his hips was a little too tempting to go ignored. Especially when it was the only thing he was wearing.

He noticed the attention. Of course he did, he never missed a thing where you were involved.

You rolled your eyes in good humour as soon as a teasing grin spread across his features.

Bucky perched himself on the edge of your mattress, holding his hand out in invitation. You took it, allowing him to pull you down onto his lap, knees resting on either side of his hips. Your hands drifted along his strong arms lightly. He used to flinch when you paid any attention to his left arm, worried that you’d either find its appearance or -more likely- its _symbolism_ disgusting. But it had been over a month since your first ‘hot date’ as you called it, and you’d both grown a little more comfortable with each other.

Unfortunately, nobody else could know about it just yet. In fact, you were relatively certain that most people didn’t even realise you knew Bucky at all. That was the aim at least, and with Tony’s eyes glued to the man 24/7, it was not easy to maintain secrecy. God, he’d kill the both of you if he ever found out about all of the stolen moments and feelings you’d both hidden behind secret smiles and passing glances. It was bad enough that you both had to pretend to be seeing other people when you left the Tower for your ‘dates’, but you feared Tony’s reaction if he ever found out.

The billionaire had asked for time to get used to Bucky, and you would give him that time before coming clean…and then you’d pray that he was in a good mood.

“Is that my sweater?”

“What?” You looked down in alarm, and sure enough the baggy sweater was not one of your own. “Crap! Do you think he noticed?”

“Did he say anything about it?”

“No.”

“Then you’re fine, doll.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple.

You almost blushed when you noticed the gentle expression on his face, and he hugged you closer with a quiet little laugh.

“Don’t you go getting shy on me now. We’re way past that.” He whispered teasingly, his lips inching closer to your own.

“Oh, no you don’t.” His puckered lips met your finger instead, and Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Hngh?”

“I have to build a force field because of you.” You narrowed your eyes in faux irritation.

“Because of _me_?” He laughed in surprise. “Sweetheart, it’s not my fault you’re a lousy liar.”

“But it _is_ your fault I have to lie in the first place.” You countered with a growing smile.

“Technically, you _don’t_ have to lie.”

“ _Technically_ ,” You mocked, “I do if we want to keep breathing.”

You shared a laugh, and your arms found their way around his neck. Bucky cherished moments like these. Seeing you happy and carefree, in a bubble only the two of you could share, was the highlight of his week. It reminded him that maybe, just maybe, he could have this. He could have a relationship that any normal man could have - and even be envious of - and he didn’t have to fear his inadequacy for the rest of his life.  

“Y’know, that was actually some pretty quick thinking.”

“What, the shield thing?” You snorted lightly, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Mhm.” He leaned into your touch.

“You can thank Steve for that. His room’s across the hall and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

Bucky’s lips quirked up in amusement. Even when he wasn’t around, Steve was still there to save the day.

“Doll, I’m naked, you’re about to be naked, and Steve is the _last_ thing on my mind right now.”

Your brows shot up. “You _just_ had a shower-“

“Mm, don’t care.” He rolled you both over, earning a surprised squeal that melted away into another laugh.

You sometimes forgot he was a super-soldier, you didn’t really see the soldier in him, only the man. And what a man he was. He didn’t agree with you, you knew that, but that’s why you weren’t going anywhere. He was worth so much more than he realised, and you’d remind him of that everyday if you had to.

He was everything you’d been waiting for, and you were everything he thought he’d never have.  


	2. A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is finding it hard to tell you how he feels, so he takes it upon himself to sabotage your dates until he no longer can. Basically, Bucky is a little shit. I was reading The Bad Beginning and I couldn’t help myself.

It had been a long week.

Work was always busier around the holiday period, and your already lacking social life was threatening to become non-existent if things continued at this rate. But that’s what being an adult was, wasn’t it? Working all day and praying no one would bother you so you could chill in your underwear and watch TV all night. Maybe that was just you…

But today was different. The first weekend you had off in three weeks and you were finally catching up with the overgrown toddlers you called friends. You had to hand it to them though, they were the most supportive friends you could ask for, and you didn’t think you’d have the patience to listen to them rant about their shitty co-workers the way you did.

Bucky and Sam argued like an old married couple most of the time, but at least they knew how to make you laugh and take your mind off of things for a while. It was early in the afternoon and you were all sitting in your usual spots in the lounge room, drinks in hand. Sam always sat in one of the armchairs, he claimed it was the comfier of the two, despite the fact that they were identical. So naturally, Bucky would always steal it whenever he got the chance and Sam would end up grumbling under his breath about it for a solid half hour.

On the days that Bucky was feeling generous, he’d sit beside you on the couch instead. Today was one of those days.

“Look, all I’m saying is that without the serum, it wouldn’t even be a contest.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh please, the serum enhances the good and the bad. You’re bad enough without it, with it you’d be pathetic.”

Sam scoffed, jerking his head back in disbelief. “We both know that’s a lie. Help me out here, Y/N.”

You looked up wide-eyed at the mention of your name to find both of them staring at you expectantly.

“Uh…I-I-“ Your gaze flickered between them, as if an answer would miraculously dangle itself in front of you.

“You weren’t even paying attention.” Sam pursed his lips with a faux glare.

“I’m sorry!” You laughed, shoving Bucky’s shoulder when he shot you a _tsk tsk_. “Hey, you can’t blame me for zoning out whenever you two bicker like children.”

Sam cocked a brow. “You’re really gonna sit there and pretend you weren’t thinking about work?”

“Insulting our intelligence like that…” Bucky trailed off with a severe shake of his head, but the way his lips eventually twitched up cancelled it out.

You smiled, hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I know. I’m the worst, I’m sorry!”

Sam opened his mouth, no doubt ready to reassure you that you were, in fact, the worst. But it snapped shut just as quickly, and he appraised you for a moment. Your brows furrowed, and all Bucky could offer when you looked to him for help was an equally confused shrug.

A sudden idea had struck Sam, and he did well to keep the glee off of his face.

“You know what you need to do?”

You hesitated. “What’s that?”

“Go on a date.”

Frowning in contemplation, you missed the high-browed look Sam sent a scowling Bucky over the rim of his cup.

“A date?”

“Yeah!” Sam smiled, it looked reassuring, but you had no idea how much joy he was taking in seeing Bucky so livid.

“Think about it, you’re always working, don’t you deserve a night out on the town with some good company?”

“ _Or_ ,” Bucky emphasised, “maybe a night in with good company, watch some movies and eat some takeout? Nat did mention that new mov-“

“Ah, come on, man! Let the girl live a little!” Sam winked with a smile. “You’re cooped up inside all day, go out, have fun…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“You don’t need to go out to have fun.” Bucky added with a nonchalant shrug, but Sam was waiting for his white-knuckled grip to finally shatter his glass.

“True,” Sam nodded slowly in agreement, “but at least think about it? You gotta have guys trippin’ over their feet just to ask you out.”

“Oh yeah, I practically have to tear them off me.“ You rolled your eyes with a small smile.

“Alright, smartass. All I’m saying is that you deserve a good guy, and any man would be lucky to have you.” Sam pointed out, putting his jokes aside for a moment.

You considered his words with a silent sigh. _Any man, huh?_ You didn’t want any man, you just wanted one in particular. But you couldn’t keep hiding yourself away in the hopes that he would one day magically sprout feelings for you.

“You know what?” You clapped your hands together with a newfound determination. “You’re right. I’m going to go call the girls and see if they’re up for a night out.”

Sam watched you leave with a self-satisfied smile, before turning to look at Bucky. He’d been glaring at Sam ever since he made the suggestion.

“What?”

“You know what.” Bucky shot back with a scoff. “That was low and you know it.”

Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Hey man, you don’t want her finding a random guy to hook up with-“

“ _Hook up with?!_ ” Bucky spluttered, wide-eyed.

“-then you better go tell her how you feel.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“It’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that easy.”

“C’mon man, how hard can it be? You walk up to her and you tell her you like her, damn.” Sam tsked with a shake of his head.

“There’s got to be another way…” Bucky squinted in thought.

“There’s no other way.” Sam rolled his eyes but Bucky was already planning, ignoring the ‘such a drama queen’ comment Sam mumbled into his glass before taking another sip.

He paused, glass hovering just before his lips when he noticed the way Bucky straightened. _Oh man_ , he knew that look.

“Whatever it is, no.”

A lazy smirk answered his pointed look.

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t need to know, that stupid look on your face tells me everything.”

Bucky scoffed.

“I’m telling you, man, it’s a bad idea.” Sam warned.

“I got this.”

Bucky shot up from the couch with a new bounce in his step.

“Wha- Hey! Come on!” Sam jumped in his seat at the sudden movement, his drink sloshing over the sides of his glass. “At least tell me what it is!”

But Bucky was already out the door. Sam shook his head in exasperation, this wasn’t what he intended to happen when he suggested you go out. He just wanted to help his friend muster up the courage to finally tell you how he felt. Bucky wasn’t even a shy guy so he had no idea why this was such a big deal for him. Either way, he had a feeling he had just made your life a hell of a lot harder.

With a scoff, he threw back the rest of his drink.

“Damn dumbass.”  
  


* * *

That had been two days ago and things didn’t quite go according to plan. The girls were busy but Natasha reassured your that she’d make it up to you. Today you were preparing to head out once more. You had a date. Your first date in a long time, but somehow Natasha had convinced you to go to dinner with the barista that worked in the cafe you always dragged Bucky to before work.

The redhead had seen first hand the way the barista would light up at the sight of you, only to dim when he noticed the pale glare pinned on him whenever he even attempted to flirt or flatter.

There were two things you were completely unaware of though…

The first was that Natasha had been the one to visit the cafe and casually mention that you were single as soon as he - _Brian_ , he told her his name was - asked her how you were doing. He recognised your friends and always asked about you no matter what, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was very interested. The only thing that had been stopping him was Bucky Barnes. The man he was certain you were dating, at least until Natasha reassured him. He asked you out the very next day, despite the fact that a tense Bucky was standing right beside you as he did so.

Brian could have sworn that for a minute there, Bucky was mentally picturing all of the ways he’d like to kill him, but he must have been imagining it. Why else would the man offer to help him?

That was the second thing you were unaware of. The moment you stepped into the bathroom, Bucky had swiftly headed over to Brian and offered him a charming -albeit, entirely fake- smile.

_“Look, you seem like a nice guy, Brandon-“_

_“Brian-“_

_“So I feel like I should tell you before your date…”_

_“Tell me what?” He looked concerned. **Good** , Bucky thought._

_“Y/N, she’s a great girl, really…” Bucky trailed off with a forced grimace. “But she can be a little, **overwhelming**.”_

_“She has this habit,” he shook his head fondly, “likes to plan things real early, weddings, kids, the whole nine yards, ya know?”_

_“What?” Misinterpreting Brian’s surprise as dismay, Bucky felt his lips turn in a satisfied smile. “No way! I do the exact same thing.”_

_“You- you do?” Bucky faltered, and he couldn’t figure out if Brian was genuinely gushing or if he was just messing with him. The very idea made Bucky want to cringe._

_Brian nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I like to be prepared, you know, just in case? I mean, my last girlfriend dumped me because she said it was way too soon, but two months quickly turns into two years, right?”_

_“…right.” Bucky nodded slowly._

_“But thanks, man. For a second there I thought you were…you know…” He shot Bucky a pointed look._

_“Huh?”_

_“I mean, she’s beautiful, and you’re always with her,” Brian shrugged, “I thought you might get jealous or something and stake your claim, but thanks for the tip!” He grinned._

_Now Bucky thought of himself as a relatively nice guy, and even though Brian wasn’t wrong about his jealousy, hearing him mention it had done him absolutely no favours. After realising that his plans for foiling your date had backfired and that Brian wouldn’t go running if he thought you were some clingy girlfriend, Bucky was willing to walk away and reassess the situation. Maybe he would even let the little punk take you out. But the mere mention of jealousy was enough to have it rear its ugly head, and he could not let his pride take that hit._

_So he forced a wide smile. “No problem, man. Y/N loves guys that aren’t afraid to share, the sooner the better!”_

_Brian’s attention peaked. “You think so?”_

_“Sure do. Hell, I wouldn’t even bother waiting. Bring it up during your date if you can,” Bucky urged, “you don’t want her thinking you’re not on the same page.”_

_Brian nodded as if it made perfect sense. Bucky had no idea how anyone could think so. One thing was for certain, if he couldn’t take Brian out of the equation, he’d take you out of it instead._

So here you were, sitting in a dimly lit restaurant with Brian the Barista. It was a nice place, somewhere you hadn’t been before, but with a cosiness that calmed your nerves. It helped that the food was also great. Brian had been easy to talk to so far, asking all sorts of questions about you - some of which you had tactfully dodged, but overall it was going relatively well.

Until it wasn’t.

Brian had been looking forward to your date all day. Despite his nerves, he was glad that he finally had a chance to win you over. His ex only broke up with him a few weeks ago, but he told himself it wasn’t cheating or anything if he just appreciated you from afar. For months he’d watch you come and go with your friends, usually Bucky, and he could never really gather the courage to talk to you when your silent protector was present. So he was more than surprised that Bucky himself had given him advice to win you over.  

“So, do you, uh, like kids?”

You paused mid-bite, looking at him in confusion.

“Kids?” The question caught you off guard. “Yeah, I guess, I mean-“

“Me too! I love kids, they’re great.” He shot you a knowing smile that you couldn’t quite decipher. Why the hell was he looking at you like he was in on some big secret?

“Right…”

“I always told my grandma that I’d name my first daughter after her - Marlene. What do you think?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment, dread creeping up on you when you realised the direction this conversation was going in.

“Oh, um, that’s really…something.” You forced a smile, nodding at his enthusiasm.

“Right!” He agreed, “I actually have a list of names if you want to see them, wait, I know I have it here somewhere…”

Your smiled melted away into horror as soon as he started digging into the pockets of his jacket.

“Nope, that’s the honeymoon destinations…” He jokingly rolled his eyes at his own silliness.

Your forced chuckle sounded a little hysterical even to your own ears. “Honeymoon destinations…in your left pocket. Of course.”

You downed your glass of wine in one go.

The crinkle of paper and the accompanying ‘Aha!’ was all it took for you to understand that it was going to be a _loooong_ night.

* * *

The slamming of the front door alerted Sam and Bucky that you’d returned from your date, and a glance at the clock told Sam that you were a lot earlier than expected. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to hang out in your apartment, someone had to babysit your cat and they were always more than willing to raid your fridge and watch TV.

“How’d it go?” Sam shouted from his usual armchair, but you breezed past with a groan. “That well, huh?”

The door to your room snapped shut, and Sam’s attention shot over to Bucky, chuckling in his spot on the couch.

“Man, you are stone cold, you know that?”

“I’m just doing what has to be done for the greater good.” Bucky held his hands up like he was doing the world some big favour, earning a scoff from Sam.

“Greater good, my ass.”

“Oh come on, she would have hated him in the end anyway, I was just saving them both from future heartbreak.”

“You don’t know that.” Sam pointed out matter-off-factly.

Bucky’s brows shot up knowingly, as if to say ‘really?’ and Sam didn’t even bother commenting because as much as he hated to admit it, Bucky was right. He had told Sam all about _Brandon the clingy Barista_ , and as much as he didn’t agree with Bucky’s methods, exposing the man’s clinginess was probably for the best.

The door to your room was thrown open, and their attention was quick to turn to you instead of Bucky’s scheming. Long gone was the pretty dress and make-up, making way for sweatpants and the maroon shirt Bucky had been trying to find for the past month.

You heaved a loud sigh, slumping on the couch beside him and letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Sam was shaking his head as soon as your eyes slipped shut and Bucky’s arm slipped around your waist. He shrugged innocently, and you finally decided to speak up.

“You were right. That was terrible, I should’ve just stayed in.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Sam was quick to reply before Bucky could agree with you.

“What? No way, one bad date doesn’t mean anything. Girl, you get back on that horse and try again.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but Sam simply returned his innocent shrug with a smug smile.  

“Ugh, I don’t want to think about it right now. What are we watching?”

* * *

You tried to stay positive, knowing that Sam had a point, you couldn’t quit after one bad date. You couldn’t expect to find Mr Right straight away. Even though you’d already convinced yourself that Mr Right had been found long ago, he just didn’t think you were his Miss Right. Either way, things did not get any better in the dating department. In fact, they only got worse.  

After Brian the Barista, came Jim, who was (much to Bucky’s amusement) the owner of a local gym. He seemed nice at first, if a little self-centred, but he made up for it with a wicked sense of humour. Not to mention, he was pretty great to look at. Jim’s downfall was his competitive nature.

He’d taken you to a fair and was hellbent on winning you the biggest stuffed toy available. Even if it meant snatching it out of a 6-year-old’s hands. The kid’s dad was a former marine, and when he and Jim had finished their shooting game at the same time, they both wanted the same toy. The marine for his kid, and Jim for you - because for some wild reason, he was convinced that you loved a winner. You said it was absolutely fine, there was nothing you could do with a giant stuffed Captain America anyway (he was also convinced you loved Captain America - you had no idea where he got all of these ideas), and you definitely weren’t keen on letting Sam and Bucky see a plush of their best friend sitting in your room. You’d absolutely never hear the end of it.

But Jim wouldn’t relent. He earned that toy and he was one hell of a sore loser. When he snatched Plush Cap out of the kid’s hands you knew it was over ( _and it was all going so well_ , you mentally lamented), and you spent the rest of your date waiting at the hospital to see if the marine’s right hook did any permanent damage.

After Gym owner Jim, came Rebound Robert.

He was an accountant for some big firm in Manhattan. Robert was a smart guy, offering fun facts and intelligent conversation that you really appreciated, but he was also a little too serious. He barely had a sense of humour, and the cute little bar you’d taken him to didn’t impress him one bit - you could tell by the way he grimaced as his eyes flickered around the room, but he was too polite to outwardly say anything. You always came here with Bucky (who was the one who suggested the bar in the first place - after all, _‘who doesn’t like a drink or two?_ ’) and Sam, sometimes even Steve when he wasn’t busy, it was a place that had become close to your heart, even if it wasn’t some flashy high-end bar in the centre of Manhattan.

But you knew that everyone had their own tastes, and it wasn’t entirely fair to judge Robert for his - not when you were annoyed about him doing the same thing to you.

After an hour or so you realised that there was a sadness to him that he did well to hide, until he no longer could.

He was a lightweight it seemed, and two drinks was all it took to have him divulging all of his secrets. Including the ex he was caught up on. You listened to him reveal that she was the love of his life and that he missed her _so much_ , offering a light pat on the back and a ‘ _there, there_ ’ when necessary. Just as he was starting to pull himself together, wiping his nose on his sleeve and taking a deep, shuddering breath, against _absolutely all odds_ , the very woman in question strolled into the bar.

Robert bawled at the sight of her, and you were suddenly entirely sure that someone out there had it out for you. Love just wasn’t on the cards.

After making sure Rebound Robert got home safely, you made your way home and slipped into bed. If you couldn’t find love, you thought, you’d have to just wait for it to find you.  

* * *

Nat finally organised a night out for everyone a week later. You were surprised that she invited the boys after Wanda kept mentioning how excited she was for a girl’s night out. But you didn’t really mind. You weren’t looking for another date any time soon, so you were looking forward to spending time with your friends, regardless.

Natasha had naturally kept the details of the evening to herself. Even Sam had no idea what she was planning.

_“Has he finally caved?”_

_Sam jumped at the sound of her voice beside him._

_“Damn, lady. You can’t sneak up on a man like that!” He scolded, eyes wide._

_Natasha simply smirked._

_“To answer your question: hell no.” Sam scoffed. “He’s been sabotaging all of her dates.”_

_Natasha snorted in amusement. It was amazing to see Bucky Barnes, local ladies man, reduced to a nervous teenager because of a woman._

_“So much for your grand plan.” She cocked a brow and Sam looked back at her, affronted._

_“Hey, how was I supposed to know? He was meant to freak out, get jealous, then tell her - like any normal person would. Not my fault he’s a stubborn asshole.” Sam shook his head at the very thought of the lengths Bucky was going to._

_Misleading the Barista._

_Telling the Gym Junkie that you loved a man who would fight for you._

_Paying the Accountant’s ex just to walk into a damn bar, of all things._

_Sam really had no idea how Bucky managed to find out the apparent flaws that all of these guys had, but if anyone could do it, it was Bucky Barnes. Or Natasha Romanoff, now that he thought about it. But he knew this was all Barnes._

_“Fair.” Natasha conceded. “If you’re done scheming, how about you let me take the lead this time?”_

_Sam perked up at the offer. Her plans usually worked, sure they were morally ambiguous most of the time, but these were desperate times and Bucky wasn’t exactly acting like a saint where your dates were involved._

_“You have a plan?”_

_Natasha shot him her characteristic smirk._

_“Something like that.”_

Sam only realised just how far Nat was willing to go when she invited Steve and Bucky alone with them to the bar. It was one of the most amusing things he’d seen in a long time. Bucky Barnes was not one to panic. He’d been through too much in his long life to be surprised by anything nowadays, but this was something else.

_“Steve? I thought you were in Bulgaria?”_

_Sam, Steve and Nat had already been waiting in a booth when Bucky arrived, all nursing beers._

_Steve greeted his best friend with a smile. “Got back this morning. Thought I’d join you tonight.”_

_Bucky grinned at the prospect, sliding into the booth beside him as Sam and Nat chatted across from them. They saw each other all the time, but missions had been taking Steve away an awful lot recently. It gave him more time to bond (bicker) with Sam, and spend with you. So he was excited to see Steve after weeks of no contact. That was, until he asked a question Bucky never thought he would hear him ask._

_“Hey, I know you know Y/N better than most, I was just wondering if you could tell me what kind of food she likes best?” Steve asked lowly._

_Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion._

_“Food? Uh, she not that fussy, really…why?”_

_Steve looked somewhat sheepish and Bucky felt a red flag go up in his mind._

_“I was thinking of asking her out on a date.”_

_The words just weren’t registering and all chatter at the table suddenly stopped. Natasha and Sam shared a look as Bucky opened and closed his mouth like a fish._

_“Wha…d-date?” Bucky felt his heart race, hoping no one noticed the way his breathing picked up. “You? You and- and Y/N? On a date?”_

_Steve frowned in concern, reaching out to grasp Bucky’s shoulder. “You okay, Buck?”_

_The question seemed to snap Bucky out of his little episode, and he forced a smile. “Huh? Yeah, yeah of course. I’m great. Listen, I’m gonna go get a drink, anyone need a refill?”_

_A chorus of ‘no-s’ greeted him and he was out of his seat in a split second._

_Steve sighed, sending a flat glare across the table when he heard the snickering._

_“You two are unbelievable, you know that? I can’t believe I agreed to this, did you see his face?” Steve frowned at the thought. Bucky looked devastated, and while Nat’s idea of finally forcing him to pluck up the courage and ask you on a date sounded effective earlier, he was regretting agreeing to it after that reaction._

_“Relax, Steve. That just proves that it’s working.” Natasha offered a half-shrug. She knew Bucky would never ruin one of Steve’s dates, the only chance he had of doing so was to prevent it from happening entirely._

_On the other side of the room, you and Wanda had just arrived._

Honestly, the longer you were there, the more relieved you were that Bucky, Sam and Steve were too. Wanda had always been a lightweight, and even if you knew Natasha could handle any drunken assholes heading her way, there was an extra sense of safety that the boys offered. You knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to any of you as long as they were around.

So you really shouldn’t have been surprised that at the first sign of trouble, Bucky was storming his way over to you like a steam-train. You’d just gone up to order another round when you felt a hand on the small of your back. At first you smiled, looking over your shoulder and expecting to see either one of the girls or Bucky. Steve would blush ten different shades before touching a woman he wasn’t ‘going steady with’, as he called it, and Sam was too lazy to leave his seat.  

But that smile was wiped a way as quick as it had come the moment you noticed a stranger standing beside you. He was decent-looking, but that didn’t excuse the fact that he was making you uncomfortable. He didn’t quite seem to understand that.

“You can put her drink on my tab.”

You turned, hoping his hand would drop as you backed out of his reach. Apparently he couldn’t take a hint, letting it slip to your waist instead.

“Oh, um, that’s not necessary…”

“Please, I insist.”

“No, really, I-“

He held up a hand to cut you off, and you blinked, wide-eyed at the audacity.

“Tell you what, you can make it up to me by joining me at my table.” He offered with a charming smile.

Apparently your loud scoff wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Are you kidding?” You knocked his arm away from you, finally losing your patience with playing nice. What the hell was it with all the men in this city?!

“Excus-“

You turned back to the bartender with an apologetic smile. “You can leave those on my tab, thanks.”

Opting for a hasty retreat before Mr Control Freak decided he didn’t like your tone, you turned to head back to the girls. You yelped when your forearm was jerked back by his harsh grip, and he looked absolutely thunderous when you were forced to face him. His hold only tightened when you tried to jerk away, and you winced at the feeling of his fingers digging into your bones.

“You listen to me, you little - ahh!”

A strong hand clamped down on his wrist, and he quickly dropped your own as if it had burnt him. _Thank god for Bucky Barnes_ , you thought, rubbing the sore skin of your arm. It was rare to see Bucky angry. He was a level-headed person most days, and he never took his anger out on those who hadn’t earned it. The worst he had let you see was his irritation, which usually appeared whenever Sam joined you.

“Apologise.”

If that chilling glare was pinned on you, you’d do anything and everything he asked of you. It was strange to see eyes that completely captivated you so full of threat - so cold and distant and dangerous.

“W-what?” Mr Control Freak was already grimacing at the pain shooting through his arm, but you could see his knees buckle when Bucky’s cybernetic arm whirred.

“I said, apologise.” He replied lowly.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Bucky’s jaw clenched when he noticed the way you were clutching your arm to your chest, eyes glassy and frowning, but he wouldn’t let you see his rage. No, not you.

“Why don’t you head on over to Steve, doll, I’ll be there in a minute.” He offered softly with a warm smile but his eyes were hard as steel when they flickered back over to Mr Control Freak.

Bucky realised that the incident hadn’t gone unnoticed, the whole table was on its feet with Natasha weaving her way over. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and sent a dark glare the asshole’s way before shepherding you away.

Bucky’s smile fell the moment you left.

“I’m gonna be real honest with you man, I’d kill every last person in this bar for that woman.” The man’s eyes widened. “You touch her or any other woman like that again, hell, you ever even think about it, and you’ll be the first on my list. Understand?”

It was the closest to polite that Bucky could get right now, and considering he wanted to break this guy in half for laying his hands on you, he knew the repercussions would be severe in such a public place. The best he could do was make sure it never happened again.

“Yes, I-I understand.”

“Good. _Go_ ,” Bucky pushed the man’s arm away a little harsher than necessary, “I don’t want to see you here again.”

After stumbling back a few steps, he fled from the bar like a bat out of hell.

* * *

Bucky found you on the balcony of the two-storey bar. It wasn’t anything too special, the chaos of New York’s streets could be heard wherever you sat, and the skyscrapers blocked any kind of view you might have, but it was a nice place to just sit and breathe.

It was also a great place for Bucky to calm down after the altercation inside. Steve had sent him your way as soon as Nat had returned to the table. Apparently you wanted some alone time.

That surprised Bucky. Not that you wanted to be alone, but that Steve wasn’t offering to go find you instead. The look he shared with Sam and Natasha raised his suspicion, but that wasn’t Bucky’s priority at the time.

_“Go get her, pal.”_ Steve had said.

And he did.

You didn’t send him away, choosing instead to thank him and release all of the pent up emotion you’d been storing for the past month. He listened, guilt hitting for the first time, as you questioned your self-worth after a line of crappy dates. That was never his intention. He never wanted you to doubt yourself, he just wanted to show you that none of those guys deserved you. Did _he_? Probably not, but there wasn’t a damn person in the world who loved you more than he did.    

“I just don’t get it! Is there even a single guy in New York who isn’t a low-key asshole? Or just…just- ugh! I mean, am I asking too much? Am I the problem?” You threw your hands up in exasperation, but Bucky didn’t even get the chance to reply before you continued. “I just want to find a good guy, someone that gets me, and makes me happy. Someone like-!” Your brain managed to catch up with your mouth just in time, and you snapped it shut.

Bucky’s eyes were on you as quick as a whip, never one to miss any of the details.

“Like…?” He prompted.

Your shoulders slumped at the question. _Like you, you dork._

“Like…Ryan Reynolds.” You threw out the first name you could think of with a shrug, earning an amused snort from Bucky.  

He knew you weren’t exactly telling the truth, despite your genuine love for Ryan Reynolds, but you were grateful he didn’t call you out on it.

“Believe it or not, there are still some good guys out there.” Bucky offered a soft smile. “Take Steve for example…”

Your brows furrowed. “Steve?”

Bucky chuckled at the way your face scrunched up in confusion. “Yeah, I mean, can you name a guy nicer than Steve?”

He didn’t even know why he was asking. There was no one better than Steve, he knew that and he’d fight anyone who ever dared to disagree. Despite not wanting to hear you tell him how great you thought Steve was, especially after finding out Steve was interested in pursuing you (his chest tightened at the very thought), he needed to know. All this time he had spent believing Sam, believing that you may have returned his feelings. Only to what? Find out that perhaps you didn’t want someone like him at all. Why would you, when you could have someone like Steve instead?

There was even a selfish part of him that wanted you to disagree, to tell him that there was only one man for you and that it wasn’t Steve. Right now it didn’t seem as unlikely as he would have originally thought, not if he was reading you right.

“Well, no…but he’s not-“ You shook your head, cutting yourself off once more.

“Not what?”

“Not…Ryan Reynolds.” You finished lamely, drawing another laugh from Bucky.

“Y’know, doll, I’m starting to think ‘Ryan Reynolds’ is code for something.” He cocked a knowing brow, peeking at you from the corner of his eye and smiling when you scowled.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you, both content to just enjoy the fresh (or as fresh as New York could offer) air and each other’s presence. There was a strange sense of anticipation within you, one that burned just as bright as the newfound hope in Bucky.

“I should head back inside, the girls are probably wondering where I am.”

_If she goes in there, she’s Steve’s,_ he reminded himself. 

He listened as you got up to leave, each step reverberating in his head and urging him to say _something_. 

“We should go out some time.” _Oh geez, not that_.

You came to an abrupt halt and though he wasn’t looking at you, he just knew you’d turned to look at him, wondering if you had heard him right. With a silent sigh, he turned in his seat to face you. _No more running, Barnes._

Maybe there really wasn’t any other way.

“We- we are out?”

He cracked a fond smile, and shook his head. Only you could ask what he meant without actually asking what he meant.

“I was thinking something a little more…private.” His eyes darted to the floor, nerves finally settling in. 

“Or maybe a night in with good company, finally watch that movie Nat keeps raving about?” His voice had dropped lower, suddenly unsure of how you’d reply, but hoping you’d understand what he was trying to tell you. His eyes met your own and you felt like someone had knocked the air out of you.

_A night in with good company_ \- you remembered the conversation you had with Sam weeks ago. The way Bucky seemed to disapprove when he suggested you start dating. You never would have guessed that there was a reason for it, at least not _this_ reason.

“Just…me and you?”

“Yeah, just us.” He nodded with a small smile.

“I-I’d like that.” You bit your lip to keep your grin in check, but the warm look in his eyes as he watched you, told you that you hadn’t quite succeeded.

His smile quickly turned into a smug smirk as he walked over. “You can tell me all about your crush on ‘Ryan Reynolds’,” he shot you a knowing look, “and I might just show you that there’s one man left in New York that can make you happy.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, giving his shoulder a light shove. He took it in stride, throwing an arm around your shoulders with a laugh.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“You kidding? Steve only tells me every day.”

You joined him in laughing as you made your way back to your friends. It was remarkable how easily he took your mind off of everything. 


	3. An Honest Man (Loki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically just chilled sort-of fluff and some pining? Set pre-Thor (part 1), so I’ve made Loki seem a little nice than the lil troublemaker we’re used to (he’s just better at hiding it).

It was a beautiful night, hardly a surprise where Asgard was concerned, even the chill of winter did nothing to diminish its appeal. Then again, her eyes had been watching the stars shine and water shimmer from this balcony for over a millennium. Still, the beauty of Asgard was not lost to her, not when war crept around every corner and cast its shadow on all involved. It was only in times like these -times of reclaimed peace- that one truly realised how radiant the world was.

Her job was not to fight in heroic battles, nor was it to keep the peace. No, she was a healer - and an excellent one at that. While battle ensured that her talents remained relevant, she took no pleasure in doing harm, nor seeing her people harmed. They had lost many in the latest bout of violence that had swept across neighbouring lands, too many for a world that was supposed to be at peace. When things became too much, when she grew tired of only seeing pain and death, she would come up to this balcony and remind herself that there was still beauty in the world too.

It wasn’t one of those days, well…not entirely.

The whole of Asgard was celebrating. After decades of tension, an agreement had finally been struck between rival territories and peace was on the horizon once again. The palace was alight and the sounds of merrymaking echoed through the night. Her friends were inside, no doubt regaling the crowd with stories of their battlefield victories - the price of having warriors for friends, she supposed. But they were lovely people, really, and they had known each other for centuries. She just preferred taking time to herself sometimes…they wouldn’t even notice her absence, and if they did, they would understand that she needed to escape the stuffy banquet hall. Crowds and attention had always made her uncomfortable, but her circle of friends ensured that these were two things she needed to grow accustomed to.

A fresh bout of laughs broke through the quiet hum of chatter, and she smiled at the sound. Even in the midst of falling snow, there was a warmth that had settled within her. She knew she couldn’t hide from her friends for much longer, and surely enough just as the thought had crossed her mind, the falling snowflakes in front of her began to swirl in the cool air. They moved slowly, spiralling down onto the thick stone balustrade her hands were leaning against. Each one seemed to latch onto the next, falling perfectly to form the distinctive shape of a rose. As if that wasn’t impressive enough, a flash of green was all it took to transform the sculpture into a real rose.    

It was beautiful to witness, and there was only one person she knew who could show such mastery of magic.

“Your talents never cease to amaze me…”

She gently trailed a finger over the soft red petals as he came to stand beside her.

“It’s nothing really, a bit of simple magic.” His smooth voice was quiet, as if he was afraid of disturbing her peace.

She smiled with a fond shake of her head. She’d never a met humble troublemaker, but after witnessing Thor’s youthful arrogance, he had no desire to be viewed in the same way - not by _her_. Everything was different with her, and he liked it that way.

“All magic is simple to you, Loki.”

“As healing is to you.” He brushed the comment off with a small shrug and a creased brow that would have fooled most others. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

She looked at him with a cocked brow, but he kept his gaze forward, knowing she could always see right through him even if he was only trying to compliment her.

“I thought you were supposed to be a convincing liar.” The flatness of her response had him huffing out a laugh, grinning in a way that was all too familiar to her - the same way he always looked when he was caught in one of his infamous lies, a bashful yet somehow proud grin he often aimed at the floor.

Truthfully, he enjoyed the challenge she posed. He always had, ever since they were children. Growing up together had ensured that she knew him better than almost anyone, and he’d constantly try to fool her in their youth for that very reason. It was much harder to sell a lie when the person you were lying to knew everything about you. It allowed him to hone his craft, and develop a friendship that had lasted over a millennium. Eventually he came to a point where he didn’t _want_ to lie to her - it came as a shock to him, and he ended up lying to himself instead, for many years to follow.

“Are the festivities not to your liking?”

“What gave you that impression, my Prince?” He noted the way she avoided directly answering the question, but felt a warmth in his chest at the title. Yes, _her_ Prince, in all eyes but her own.

Loki genuinely couldn’t tell if she ignored whatever their friendship had blossomed into, or if she was completely oblivious to the obvious shift. His brother and his foolish friends had spent decades asking when Loki would finally make his feelings known, but he had swiftly brought an end to their irritating interrogations by claiming there was nothing remotely romantic between him and his old friend. Eventually they stopped asking, but that didn’t mean his heart didn’t feel that enticing pull whenever she drifted into a room with the grace of a queen.

He was no fool, he saw the way eyes followed her and the familiar bubbling of jealousy was what first alerted him to his feelings. He didn’t enjoy sharing her attention, and he was always the first to notice her presence.

“Perhaps your absence…” She smiled fondly at his ribbing.

“And what of your own?”

“They’ll surely survive without me.” She could hear the bitterness he so often concealed, and he finally returned her gaze with a charming smile. “Besides, I am currently entertaining one of my guests, am I not?”

She looked to him with a warm smile, one that he knew only belonged to him - a fact he greedily accepted.

“Ah, I see. Centuries of what I believed to be friendship, and I remain only ‘a guest’.”

Loki’s smiled faded.

“I didn’t…that’s not what-“

She laughed outright at his reaction. “Oh dear, he cannot lie, he can _barely_ speak…is something the matter, your highness? You’re not quite yourself.”

He rolled his eyes at her teasing, earning another laugh. He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched upward at the sound.

“Despite a few ale-induced blunders, I think we’ve established that I remain exceptionally talented - or so you say.”

Her face scrunched up in protest, and Loki was smirking long before he had finished his sentence.

“Funny, I cannot for the life of me remember saying so. If anything, your powers are…“ She trailed off in thought, tapping her fingers on the stone beneath them.

“Yes?” Loki prompted, turning to lean his back against the balustrade and instead face her.

“Ordinary-“

“Oh?” His brows shot up in surprise and a small smirk tugged at his lips.

“Completely unexceptional-“

She shook her head in faux sympathy and fought back a smile when he feigned concern.

“Oh dear.”

“Mediocre at best…” She leaned in to whisper, only realising how close they were after he had done the same.

“And at worst?”

“At worst…completely inferior to my own.” She said matter-of-factly.

Loki hummed in amusement, and she couldn’t remain serious for long, before breaking out into a smile.  

“Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt tonight, it’s that even in this state I am a far better liar than you.” He shot her an impish grin of his own, one she knew signified trouble, before a particularly cold gust of wind had her shoulders hunching.

Loki frowned, all traces of their conversation seemingly carried away by the breeze.

“Here.”

She looked at him in confusion, before realising he was unclasping his own cloak.

“Oh, no I couldn’t-“ She held her hands up in protest, but it didn’t stop Loki from swiftly wrapping the rich green fabric snuggly around her shoulders.

“You can, and you will.”

“Loki…” Her hands clasped his own as his nimble fingers worked on fastening the ties. His pale eyes met her own and he offered a reassuring smile when he saw the worry reflected at him.

“Believe me, I can barely feel the cold.”

* * *

Through the glass doors that led to the small balcony, Frigga watched with a small smile as her youngest wrapped his cloak around the woman he loved. There was a gentleness to his gaze when his eyes were fixed on her that Frigga had never seen before. In truth, while Loki loved his brother and father, he only showed his truth self to his mother - when he didn’t need to pretend to be more than he was. She was the only one who embraced his talents and encouraged his learning rather than shunning him for being different. Well, she _was_ the only one. Not anymore…  

Now, as Frigga witnessed the way the young prince remained transfixed, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he found true happiness. Especially if his happiness continued to look at him in the exact same way.


	4. The (Dis)Honest Man (Loki - AHM prequel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki never asks for help, especially not from Thor…but desperate times call for desperate measures. Sort of a prequel to ’An Honest Man’.

Loki sighed for the umpteenth time that morning. Thor had been pestering him about you for days now, and there wasn’t much more he could take.

“Peace, brother.” Thor held his hands up in surrender. “I only meant that it is obvious she returns your feelings, so why not act on them?”

With his characteristic grin Thor made to leave, giving Loki a firm pat on the back that sent him staggering forward. He didn’t turn to glare or scold him as he usually would, too caught up in his thoughts. You? Have feelings for _him_?

He highly doubted it. Not only was he too perceptive to have not noticed such a thing, but you never showed any signs of even slightly caring for him in a romantic sense. Yet, there was still that toxic slither of hope that had found a home in his head and heart, and Thor’s words only encouraged it to grow.  

_Damn him._

“Wait.”

Thor did as he was told, surprised, but pleased that his brother was finally considering the possibility. Loki turned to face him, scowling when he noticed the annoyingly knowing smile on his brother’s face. He was already regretting this.

_He_ was supposed to be the smart one, the one who always had a plan, not Thor. Loki did things on his own, he never needed help because it was seldom offered by anyone who wasn’t his brother, or mother, or you even. Everyone else went out of their way to avoid him, thinking they’d insult his intelligence if they even offered. Which, to be fair, was true. His pride wouldn’t allow him to accept help, a consequence of his self-consciousness. Always so eager to prove himself to his father - to show that he could do what needed to be done, and he could do it alone.

But not this time.

Because unlike Thor, the ladies of Asgard did not flock to him. To make matters worse, the only one that didn’t flock to Thor either, was the only one Loki cared to understand. Even asking Thor for help wouldn’t guarantee answers, but it was the best option available. He thought he already knew all there was to know about you, but perhaps he was wrong.

“Brother…” Loki sighed, swallowing his pride. “I need your help.”

* * *

“Ah! What a lovely sight first thing in the morning.”

Your brows creased in confusion as he made his way into the healing rooms, not noticing the withering glares sent his way for the commotion he caused. His words hardly surprised you, Fandral was a notorious flirt, but you _were_ surprised to see him awake so early. It was no secret that he’d usually spend his mornings locked away in his chambers with whatever conquest or _conquests_ gained his attention the night before.

He was always the last to the training grounds, but what he lacked in punctuality, he made up for with natural talent. No one would argue that he was an excellent warrior.

“You think the ill and injured make for a lovely sight?” You cocked a brow.

He faltered, but his blinding smile was back in an instant. “Nay, milady, I was referring to the lovely woman tending to them!”

You looked over to the patients with an amused quirk of your lips, and Fandral followed your gaze. Bustling in between them was a short and plump healer, one Loki constantly commented was ‘older than dust’, who almost always wore a nasty scowl on her wrinkled face. Fandral grimaced at the sight.

“I see your taste in women is as impeccable as always.” You chortled.

To his credit, Fandral laughed it off and once again gave you his full attention.

“Is there something you need, Fandral?”

“Must I need a reason to come and visit my favourite healer?”

You blinked, fixing him with a blank look that made him shift uncomfortably.

“ _Fandral_ …”

He smiled at the suspicion in your voice, but casually threw an arm around your shoulders as you’d seen him do a thousand times before to his potential bedfellows. Your eyes narrowed.

“Fandral, are you injured?”

He looked puzzled for a moment. “…no?”

“Would you like to be?”

Your gaze darted down to arm on your shoulder and he was quick to snatch it away. You had never been particularly close to Fandral, he was a decent man, but you weren’t overly fond of the label that was often stamped on those he spent his time with. Most of your interaction came when you spent time with the two Princes, or Lady Sif.

“My apologies…” He cleared his throat. “In all honesty, I did come here for a reason.”

That couldn’t be good.

“You see, I was wondering if you would perhaps -that is to say, if you’d be interested in-“

“Spit it out, Fandral.” You rolled your eyes at his uncharacteristic fumbling.

“Would you like to join me for a walk in the gardens this afternoon?”

_Oh dear._

“I…I don’t think that would be wise.” You frowned, one part confused and another apologetic. “We have little in common, and I just- you’re not-“

“Not your type of man. I completely understand.” He nodded solemnly, but honestly didn’t look all that bothered by it - in fact, he looked…glad?

You, on the other hand, were beyond confused, but you barely had time to voice this confusion before he continued.

“I don’t suppose you have, say…your eye on another?” He quirked a brow with a shrug, feigning indifference.

“Well…not exactly.”

“Not _exactly_?” He seemed to perk up, but you were quick to put an end to this exceptionally strange conversation.

“I meant ‘no’.” You shook your head impatiently. “Listen, I have patients to deal with, and now really isn’t the time to-”

The warrior raised his hands in surrender, a charming smile flitting across his features. “Say no more, dove. I will take my leave.”

He turned on his heel and was out of the room so fast you could barely make sense of it. From his unusual behaviour, to his newfound interest in your love life, you really had no idea what to make of Fandral at the moment.

What a strange morning.

* * *

Unfortunately for you, it would only get stranger when the time for your midday meal came by.

“Ah, Y/N, come join me!” Volstagg’s booming voice rang out from the end of the long table, the end where you usually sat with Loki.

Food was piled high across every inch of the surface, but with an appetite like his, you knew even that wouldn’t be enough. Loki had been mysteriously absent all morning, which was unusual, but you were glad to have the old warrior for company. Volstagg was always so jolly and polite to all who approached him - unless he was hungry.

“Hello, Volstagg.” You sat across from him with a smile.  

“It’s been an age since we’ve spoken. I do hope that old hag isn’t working you to the bone.” He frowned in concern, but you were quick to wave it away.

“These are difficult times, but I am trying my best to help as many as possible.”

Volstagg gave you an appraising look. Difficult times, indeed. Wars were breaking out across the worlds and constant battles meant a steady influx of patients for you to deal with. You were exceptional when it came to the magic of healing, which unfortunately, also meant you were in high demand.

“Rare to find such a fine woman, and with a kind heart to match! Tell me, the suitors must be lining up for your hand, yes?” Volstagg inquired, before bringing a large chalice to his lips and draining it in one go.

You laughed, unsure of what was funnier - the thought of you having _any_ potential suitors, or his appetite.

As much as you’d prefer to not discuss your love life, it wasn’t uncommon for older folks to inquire about such things. Volstagg was the eldest of the warriors three, with a wife and children to keep him company, and he often enjoyed chasing off their own suitors.

“None that I am aware of.” You replied, pouring yourself a drink.

The warrior looked offended on your behalf, but it was difficult to take him seriously when he took a large bite out of a roasted boar shank.

“Foolish boys!” He scolded with a shake of his head. “Though I will admit, for a long time I suspected that you would inevitably wed Prince Thor.”

Your eyes widened, and you almost spat out the fruit juice you’d been drinking.

“T-Thor?!”

Volstagg seemed oblivious to your shock and merely nodded.

“Oh yes, he’s a fine man, _strong_ …he’d make for a great husband.”

You grimaced at the very thought of having Thor as a husband. He had been your friend almost as long as Loki had, and despite his good-looks and charisma, you’d never been attracted to him in the way all other Asgardian women were.

“I suppose…but strength is the last thing I’d care to look for in a husband.” You admitted.

Volstagg’s eyes shot over to you in curiosity. “Oh? And what would you look for?”

You paused in thought for a moment. “Well, he’d have to be clever, someone who could understand and challenge me each day - I can’t imagine being bound to someone dull for the rest of my life. And funny, I think I’d like someone who could make me laugh…” A small smile tugged at your lips, but you were too lost in thought to notice the intense stare Volstagg had pinned on you.

“Someone…someone who would make me happy, and care for me as I’d care for him. Someone like…” Your smile dropped as you finally caught up with your thoughts.

“Someone like…?” Volstagg prompted with a cocked brow.    

“Y/N!”

Your attention shot over to the small maid bustling over to you.

“The Commander has awoken but he is in pain, your presence has been requested.”

You thanked her for passing along the information and she bounded away after giving you a small curtsey.

“Well, it was lovely to see you, but I best be off.” You gave Volstagg a warm smile, rising to leave.

“Wait!” Volstagg all but shouted, earning a few affronted glances from others patrons.

You turned to look at him in alarm. “What is it?”

_Someone like **who**?_

“I…I’m merely disappointed that our conversation has come to an end.” He frowned, looking far more downtrodden than you’d expect.

_What is happening today?_

“Oh, well,” You tried to offer a reassuring smile, “I suppose we can continue at supper, yes?”

Volstagg forced a grin. “Yes, of course!”

* * *

“I don’t know how you can bear to spend so much time with him.”

You rolled your eyes. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last time that Sif had expressed her distaste of Loki to you. Her comments were particularly spiteful after one of his infamous pranks - especially if she was the target (as she had been that day). The two of you would spend quite a lot of time together after tending to your respective duties, and today, like most other days, you had met in the gardens before supper.

“Hardly a great mystery, Sif. Why is it you spend so much time with Thor?” You asked, before adding: “Besides your obvious feelings for him, of course.”

Sif paused, looking over with wide eyes.

“Feelings? I don’t know what you mean. Thor and I have always been friends, you know this.”

“You’d think after all this time, you would know better.” You wagged a finger in faux disapproval. “I’ve had plenty of practice in dealing with liars, dear Sif.”

You chuckled, but it was obviously a topic Sif felt uncomfortable discussing, so you took pity on her. Sif hadn’t quite been herself when she approached you earlier, though you couldn’t really fault her for acting strange after what had apparently transpired on the training grounds that morning…at least you knew why Loki had made himself scarce.

“I spend time with Loki, just as you spend time with your warriors.” You shrugged. “Why? Because I am not like you - I do not fight, I heal. Instead of weapons, I wield magic, and in instead of the training ground, I keep to the library.”

Sif’s brows furrowed thoughtfully, but she didn’t look as disapproving as one would have expected. Of all of Thor’s friends, Sif liked the God of Mischief the least. You knew it stemmed from their youth, when Sif gave Loki a black eye after he had insulted Thor. All the other children would laugh about it for days, reminding him that he had been bested by a _girl_. Needless to say, he hadn’t taken the humiliation very well, and her blonde tresses hadn’t been blonde since.  

“It is in the difference between you and I, that I find my similarity to Loki.”

“I suppose I never really thought about it in such a way before.”

“Because you let your irritation blind you.”

“You would too,” Sif scoffed at the very thought, “but we both know he’d never do such a thing to you.”

That much was true and you both knew it. You could understand Sif’s frustration, it had taken her a long time to earn the respect of her fellow warriors. That morning, Loki had turned her favourite training blade into a snake, the startled scream that echoed through the training grounds had been met with laughter. Sif hated snakes, and she hated being humiliated in front of her peers. Then again, she had never truly tried to get to know Loki, preferring the company of Thor and growing apprehensive as soon as Loki so much as entered the same room. She would never trust him.

“The advantage of being his friend rather than his enemy.” You sent Sif a pointed look, as if to say ‘this could have all been avoided, if you just tried’. It earned you an eye roll.

“And on that note, I think I should be heading inside for supper.”

Sif was silent as you rose to your feet and you quietly turned to leave her to her thoughts. You could feel the warrior’s eyes follow you before she finally acknowledged your retreat.

“Are you certain that you _are_ his friend?”

You glanced back over your shoulder in confusion.

“I’ve never seen Prince Loki so taken with anyone before…perhaps friendship isn’t the correct term for your relationship. It looks more like love to me.”

Her words were met with a beat of silence. You hadn’t expected her to ever approach you about this particular topic, knowing that Sif would sooner throw herself from the bifrost than entertain the thought of you in a relationship with Loki. And _love_? Loki, love _you_? You highly doubted it.

But almost anyone could see how the trickster god favoured the beautiful healer he had set his sights upon centuries ago. She was the only one spared where his tricks were involved, and anyone who wronged her often had to deal with the brunt of his anger - and power. The God of Mischief was creative and cunning, not many dared bother those he cared for in fear of the consequences.

“I think I’d know if he was taken with me, Sif. I know him better than anyone.” You forced a short laugh, brushing the comment off and continuing on your way.

Sif watched you leave with a small frown. She had seen the look on your face the moment she even suggested something more in your relationship. You were confused, then thoughtful, and though you tried to hide it with a laugh, the slump in your shoulders betrayed an unexpected sadness.

“And still not well enough, dove.”

Sif’s silhouette was swiftly encompassed by a bright green glow, and in her place stood the Prince himself.

* * *

“And? How did it go?”

“Let’s just say I’d have better luck taming a bilgesnipe than charming her as Fandral.” Loki huffed, as if Fandral himself had been the one to fail.

Thor frowned. “And as Volstagg?”

Loki shook his head in irritation.

“She was called away. In the end I settled for Sif.” He held his hands up in defence as soon as he noted the disapproving look Thor was sending him.

“Easy, brother.” Loki’s lips quirked up in amusement. “I didn’t humiliate your precious friend again. I just knew that our dear Sif would have the best luck in this particular situation.”

Loki knew that his brother felt guilty. It was his idea to have Loki rile up his friends so that he would have a reason to send them out for the day. He wasn’t expecting Loki to embarrass Sif publicly, but the suggestion of taking her anger out on the beasts terrorising the forests had been more than appreciated. It meant that no one could reveal him as an imposter and that was all that mattered for now.

Besides, with the amount he’d ingested pretending to be Volstagg, he had been more than punished for his actions.

“Did you at least learn anything?”

Loki thought back to his conversation with you, the expression you wore as soon as he -Sif- mentioned his feelings. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, confessing his feelings for you without really confessing anything at all. It felt wrong, as if the words should have been coming from his own mouth, not Sif’s.

But it was so clear to him in that moment, that _yes_ , there was something else there. You denied that he would have feelings for you, but you never denied having the same feelings for him.

All he needed was that name. The name of the mysterious man of your dreams - the clever, funny one who’d love you as you deserved to be loved. Loki couldn’t be certain that you were referring to him, he was hardly the man you described, but one thing was for certain - he could be that man if you allowed him to be.

“Perhaps.”  

What he _did_ know was that it was supper time and he had a lovely healer waiting for him.


	5. Changing Gears (Tony Stark)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were with Tony since the very beginning. Despite his questionable ways, he was all you wanted and something you didn’t think you could ever have. When you reach your limit, will he finally show you that he can be a better man than you ever expected him to be? Probably going to have 2 more parts. Set during Ironman 1.
> 
> Also the first Marvel OS I wrote :)

Tony Stark was not an easy man to live with.

Or negotiate with.

Or threaten apparently.

Tony Stark just wasn’t an easy man in general…unless you were a tall blonde with a great rack, if the sounds echoing through the Malibu home were anything to go by. In that case, he was a _very_ easy man.

The annoyingly persistent blonde reporter he had picked up on his way home from the Apogee Award presentation in Vegas –Christine, if you recalled correctly- was making a racket. _What the hell are they doing in there?_ Whatever it was, it didn’t sound healthy.

You tried to negotiate with Tony, insisting that he could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted, provided that it didn’t happen inside the house. But as per usual, he kept his word for a solid 5 minutes, before conviniently forgetting all about it as soon as something pretty in a skirt walked by.

Then you tried threatening him. In fact, it was his final warning. Unlike Tony, while you yourself were quite brilliant intellectually, you did try to get the recommended 8 hours of sleep that most sane people needed to function properly. So his constant disregard for your own needs had driven you to threatening him –either he started being more considerate, or you’d find somewhere else to live and do your work.

You didn’t want it to come to that, and part of you knew that it was an empty threat…and if you knew that, then so did Tony. Which was probably why he was currently making your ears bleed.

After wrapping a pillow around your head did nothing to muffle the sounds coming from down the hall, you did the only thing you could do. Escape downstairs into the workshop. It wasn’t the cosiest of places, but there was a comfy couch down there that looked like heaven itself as soon as you realised that absolutely no noise could be heard. Not a single sound.

It was _perfect_.

You loved Tony, you really did. He was your oldest friend, and the two of you were inseperable usually, to the point where he had even offered you a very high ranking position in Stark Industries. But one of the reasons you fit so well together, was because of your obvious differences.

Where he was brash and imuplsive, you were more methodical and cautious. Where he he was immature and arrogant, you were mature and humble. Your higher level of intellect was what bound you together. You were like two sides of the same coin, and even though he didn’t have some of the best qualities, you loved him all the same.

More than you should have.

You knew you saw him in a different way to how he saw you…you were just that same shy little girl he had met eons ago. He became the cool teenager already enrolled at MIT, while you were only 8 years old when your father passed and you were left on Howard's doorstep. It was only when you became a teenager yourself that you started seeing Tony in a different way. It was obviously a strange thought, but now in adulthood, the age difference didn’t really matter. At least it didn’t matter to _you_ …Tony was a different story.

He never gave anything away, and you didn’t either. Tony hid any of his true feelings for _anything and everything_ quite well, behind a strong mask of sarcasm and arrogance. Sure, he could jokingly flirt (and _boy did he_ jokingly flirt) with you, but you knew not to take it too seriously, it wouldn’t end well if you did. You’d seen many a nameless one-night-stand do the walk of shame whenever Pepper came over to do Tony’s job for him, and that was not a look you were going to wear.

You cared about him too much, too much to risk losing him as a friend by admitting your feelings. No one knew you felt that way about him, most of the time you acted more like a mother than anything else, a role you shared with both Pepper and Rhodey.

You didn’t know where you’d be without them.

While Pepper took care of things from a business perspective, you were stuck making sure he stayed alive. Was he eating? Did he have enough water today? Did he actually end up getting sleep last night?

Most of the time he would roll his eyes in good humour, and a war of snarky words would ensue. That was something he really enjoyed –the fact that you could keep up with him. It was something that not many people could do, but your dry humour and blunt criticisms were music to his ears. His favourite habit was trying to get a rise out of you, it seemed. The fact that it was exceptionally hard to do so was what made him try even harder.

With a glance at the clock ticking above one of the workbenches, you sighed in defeat. 4:27am. Obviously, you weren’t getting any sleep tonight, Tony and your rampaging thoughts made sure of that.

With that in mind, you kicked the blanket that you had dragged downstairs off of you, and headed back up to the bathroom to prepare for an early start.

* * *

“Oooh, serious face. Wish me luck, J.A.R.V.I.S.”

 _“I do believe Miss Y/L/N does not wish to be distur-”_ The smooth beep of the glass sliding door allowing Tony access into his own workshop, cut the AI off and if J.A.R.V.I.S had eyes, you could bet your ass that he’d be rolling them.

“Someone’s up early! Music, J.A.R.V.I.S.” Tony’s upbeat voice cut through the silent cocoon you had surrounded yourself with, and you sighed silently, unwilling to show any outward signs of annoyance when the AI did as it was told.

A lack of sleep usually left you cranky, today was already shaping up to be a bad day, and it was only 8:19 in the morning. One thing Tony knew well was that you had no trouble holding a grudge. It didn’t matter how much he begged or nagged you, the only person who decided when to let it go was you.

Noticing your lack of reply, the billionaire slowly came to a halt as he approached your work station, dark eyes assessing silently for a change.

“You seem mad. Are you mad? You’re mad, aren’t you?” He rattled off quickly with lightly furrowed brows.

He always made it look like he couldn’t tell, but Tony was too smart to not be able to pick up on a person’s mood as soon as he entered a room…especially someone he knew so well. You always just assumed that he found it easier to ask and make a joke out of it than actually have to directly address emotions. It was just how he was, and you were okay with that.

“No, Tony. I’m not mad.”

His eyes narrowed at your flat tone. You hadn’t even bothered to look up at him, hands still working away at the tiny device that was your latest project. The small disc-charges were intricate little things that required a steady hand, unless you wanted to feel the 30,000 volts of electricity first hand –and you really _didn’t_ want that.

The idea was that they could be used to incapacitate targets quickly and efficiently. The small size allowed them to be easily concealed, and you were excited to be working on something on your own this time around. Designing military weaponry was better suited to Tony, you preferred the smaller gadgets designed to be used by the individual. You could easily convince yourself that what you were making was for self-defence that way, rather than a weapon of war that could wipe out thousands in the blink of an eye.

“You’re not?” Tony’s words were drawn out, his brows rising to show he wasn’t convinced.

Your eyes were still trained on the disc, and he would have at least quirked a smile at the comical size of your eye through the huge magnifying glass that Dum-E was holding for you as you tinkered with the disc-charge. But he didn’t laugh, and he didn’t smile, because you _were_ mad…and he didn’t like that.

Never one to remain patient for very long, Tony quickly snatched the magnifying glass, ushering Dum-E away and ignoring your indignant ‘hey!’ of protest.

Tony held the handle in his right hand, tapping his left palm with the glass, while watching you glare up at him. He was completely unfazed, and that just made you crankier.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s got your feathers all ruffled?”

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but did roll your wheelie chair forward to take back the magnifying glass. He put up a fight, and a short game of tug-of-war ensued before he finally let go.

He took your silence as a display of rebelliousness, but in truth, you were just trying to figure out what to say.

_Oh nothing, Tony. I’m just angry I didn’t sleep a wink last night because you were busy going at it with yet another one-night-stand, which may or may not hurt to even think about because I love you but I can’t tell you that. But I’m not jealous, I’m completely fine. Yep, I’m great._

Yeah…maybe not.

That wasn’t just something you could blurt out. Maybe if Tony wasn’t Tony, and didn’t push away those who loved him romantically…maybe then you could admit it. But the truth of the matter was, that anyone who professed their love for him was likely never seen again. No, they weren’t killed or anything, he just avoided them like the plague.

“Alright, fine.”

You knew that tone, it was his ‘challenge accepted’ tone. A tone that had the potential to make or break someone. Never underestimate Tony Stark when he takes _that_ tone.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, why is Y/N mad at me?”

_“According to my observations, Miss Y/L/N’s current mood is a result of both a lack of sleep, and the volume of your fornication with Miss Everheart last night, sir.”_

Tony grimaced, his shoulders slumping when you beckoned Dum-E back over and resumed your work. You always had a soft spot for Dum-E.

“Oh…you, uh, you heard that, huh?” He scratched the back of his neck uneasily. He didn’t know why that thought bothered him. It’s not like you didn’t know what he would be doing that night.

You were there in Vegas, granted you actually went to the Apogee Award presentation with Obidiah, instead of hitting the casinos with him. But there was a woman on his arm at every turn, and you even had to share a car with him and Katherine…Kirsty? Kerry? Whatever. She was just another pretty face that he’d already forgotten.

Still, it bothered him. It almost felt like he didn’t want you knowing about that, despite the fact that the whole world knew Tony Stark was a playboy.

“It was kinda hard not to. Right, J?”

He winced at the sarcastic tone, and made a mental note to tell Pepper to buy you something nice. He didn’t know how else to make you feel better. He’d bring in some new part, or maybe a new car? No, a plane! Yes, that was it. A plane…why did he feel like he was forgetting something?

_“Indeed, madam. Had we any neighbours, I’m certain they too would share your current mood.”_

_‘Traitor’_ , Tony thought while he glared up at the ceiling, as if the AI was somehow embedded in it. He hated when they ganged up on him, and they _always_ did. J.A.R.V.I.S never sided with him, and he had long ago suspected that you must have tampered with the AI’s protocols to make sure of it.

Before Tony could even attempt digging himself out of his current predicament, the loud ‘click-clack’ of heels could be heard making their way down the stairs, and he quickly made himself look busy. He almost groaned at the sight of Pepper, prim and proper, and ready to kick his ass because–

“You’re supposed to be halfway around the world right now.”

You felt the smile slip onto your face as soon as Tony’s music cut out and Pepper’s stern tone replaced it instead. Tony was meant to be presenting the Jericho missile in Afghanistan. Rhodey had specifically told him to not be late, if you recalled correctly, and yet here he was. If there was one thing that you didn’t like about Tony, it was how inconsiderate he could sometimes be to those who cared about him most.

You knew there was nothing wrong with his memory, in fact, he had an outstanding capacity to remember almost everything he saw with his own eyes or heard with his own ears. So you couldn’t understand why he didn’t care enough to do Rhodey this one favour and show up on time.

It left you wondering. Rhodey was his best friend, and there was little that Tony wouldn’t do for the man in all seriousness. But he almost always put his _wants_ first, and it was frustrating to deal with when you were already in a bad mood. Sometimes –even though you’d never admit it- you wished he could behave a bit more like his father, at least where Stark Industries was involved.

His father had been best friends with your own, they were business partners much like you and Tony were now. The only difference was that you worked behind the scenes, you designed and created, but tried to lead as private of a live as possible considering you were both in the spotlight, _and_ under the microscope at all times.

Tony, on the other hand, thrived in the spotlight. America loved Tony Stark, and his popularity and ability had led to him neglecting his responsibilities over the years. He was used to other people doing things for him – _wanting_ to do things for him- even though he could do whatever it was far better himself.

Which is exactly what Pepper was ranting about right now. As her and Tony went toe-to-toe in a verbal sparring match so rapid it would make any sane man’s head spin, you continued your work silently. From priceless paintings and exhibitions, to MI commencement speeches, Pepper shot through it all in the space of a minute. Before the topic finally settled on something that didn’t lead to an argument. Pepper’s plans for the evening.

You knew she was going out for dinner with Happy, they had secretly decided to test the waters and you couldn’t be happier for either of them. They were both great people who had been in your life for a very long time, and deserved all the happiness in the world.  

“Hey, Y/N? It’s Pepper’s birthday.” The billionaire stated while pointing a wrench at the strawberry blonde, as if you hadn’t been in the same room the entire time listening.

“I’m aware…” Only then did you allow yourself to swivel around and offer Pepper a warm smile. “Happy birthday, Pepper. I hope you liked your present.”

She returned the smile gratefully.

“I did, thank you. It’s lovely and incredibly _expensive_ …” she gave you a look of disapproval that had you feeling like a little kid being reprimanded by a parent, but you just waved her off impatiently.

“Pepper, considering what you have to deal with everyday –or should I say _who_ …” you glanced at Tony accusingly, and continued despite the mock look of offence he shot you. “…I don’t think anything I could buy you is expensive enough.”

“Hey!”

Both women ignored him.

“Well I’m very grateful, thank you.” The older woman replied tactfully, as she always did. She was nothing if not graceful. You almost envied it, but then you remembered how much effort it would take and thought better of it.

By the time Pepper was ready to leave, she had already packed Tony’s bags and the billionaire had reluctantly left you alone for a little while.

You sighed wearily when he walked back upstairs. You didn’t like making him feel bad, and you knew that he did feel guilty whenever he noted your bad mood. But sometimes it was the only way to get him to see that you really meant it. Otherwise he’d just brush off your concerns like he always did with Rhodey, and you didn’t have the temper to deal with that.

You loved Tony as he was, but he was the smartest man you had ever met and you knew that _he knew_ when he was in the wrong. He just didn’t care much for it at the moment, and you really hoped that he would eventually.

“Pepper’s tearing me a new ass hole, I gotta get going.”

You finally turned around to look over at Tony, and hadn’t even noticed that he had returned. But there he stood in his designer clothes looking as good as ever. You offered him a small smile, and told yourself the spark in his eyes when he noticed it was just a figment of your imagination.

“Come here…” His voice was softer when he nodded you over.

You obliged, dropping the screw in your hand onto the bench top gently, before letting him pull you into a rare hug. Your body melted into his own without permission, and your shoulders that were previously tensed in agitation, relaxed in his hold.

“I know I screwed up, and I promise you I’ll make up for it when I get back, okay?”

With his hands on either one of your shoulders, he pulled you back slightly so that you could see the sincerity in his gaze. Your lack of response left him nervous, and his eyes flickered between your own for reassurance.

“Okay? We’ll talk as soon as I land.” You nodded in acceptance, and had to fight to keep the smile off of your face as he continued. You failed.

“I’ll even bring you back a souvenir. Hm…you know what we could do? Me, you, private yacht, The Bahamas? I’ll even rub suncream on your back, of course you’d need to be naked thou- hey!” He jerked back to avoid the light smacks you were giving his shoulder, grinning happily when you laughed. “All I’m saying is that nobody likes tan lines…”

That pulled another chuckle out of you, and he joined in this time. You really were something, especially when you laughed.

“ ** _Tony!_** ”

His smile dropped to a grimace real quick. Pepper was sometimes a little terrifying.

“Well, I better go.”

You smiled genuinely this time, and gave him a nod. “Yeah, good idea.”

“I’ll see ya soon, hold the fort ‘til I get back?”

You rolled your eyes in good humour. “Oh, please. I hold the fort when you’re _here_ too.”

He nodded with a bittersweet look on his face. That was…that was actually true. “Right.”

“Hey, Tony?” He turned to look back just before he reached the stairs. “Be careful, yeah?”

The billionaire gave his usual million dollar smile.

“Always.”


	6. Drown (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst, mentions of OD, more angst? Also, a lot of self-loathing? Seriously, if any of this is a trigger please don’t do this to yourself! And I’m literally always here to talk if anyone ever does need someone to lend an ear!

**_“James? I’m so sorry…”_ **

* * *

“I thought you said she was okay!”

“I thought she was!”

“Wanda, she overdosed! How is that ‘okay’?”

“I know, okay! I know…god, this is all my fault.”

Pietro’s eyes softened the moment his sister burst into tears, shaky hands covering her face as the emotions she had been repressing finally came forth.

“Wanda…”

“No!” He could hear the frustration in her tone, frustration directed at herself. “I should have paid more attention. I knew she wasn’t taking it well, but she’d smile and I’d never question it.”

“Wanda, this isn’t your fault. Whatever this is…it’s between her and James.”

“I’m her best friend, Pietro. I’m her _best friend_ and I left her alone when she needed me the most! She could have died! She’s lucky to even be alive!” Wanda’s face crumpled once more, her cries only getting louder in the sterile hallway.

Pietro’s heart ached as he watched his sister fall apart.

“Shhhh…hey, come here.” He pulled her into a comforting hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “It’s okay…it will be okay, I promise. She’ll get better and then we won’t let her out of our sight, okay?”

He pulled away, a hand on each of his sister’s shoulders as she tried to regain her composure. Wanda hastily swiped at the tears still racing down her cheeks, and with a deep shuddering breath she met her brother’s concerned gaze.

“Promise?”

Pietro knew it was a dangerous promise to be making, there was _absolutely_ no guarantee that things would be fine at all. But he could never say ‘no’ to his little sister.

“Of course, I promise.”

* * *

_“Does he know?”_

Steve sighed, “Not yet.”

_“Steve, you have to tell him.”_ She scolded over the phone.

“I know, I know I do…I just…” Steve trailed off with a sigh, brows furrowing in concern as he studied the city skyline from the hospital window. He was still too shocked to even turn around and face the woman in the hospital bed behind him. It was a terrifying reality that he hadn’t been able to believe.  

_“What is it?”_

“Even though he’s trying to convince himself he’s not, he’s still in love with her. If I tell him about this…it’ll kill him, Nat.”

_“He deserves to know, Steve…she’s been in there for 3 days now, they don’t know when she’ll wake up. If she’ll wake up at all.”_ Her voice was thick, but her jaw clenched to try and rein in her emotions.

“She’ll wake up soon…” Steve squeeze the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “She has to.”

They both knew it was true.

They both feared the outcome if that _wasn’t_ the case.

* * *

There comes a moment in everyone’s life when the whole world comes crashing down on them. Sometimes it hits instantly, and other times you have to see the destruction around you to truly believe it.

Bucky’s world was slipping away from him, and he hadn’t even know it.

This woman. This beautiful, kind, perfect woman. He loved her more than anything, but they had hurt each other beyond repair. At least that’s what he used to think. But he knew very well that nothing could compare to the pain he had put her through. She would never be able to forgive him, and he would never forgive himself.

It still hurt him to think about.

It was silly really, how it all ended…if he could go back and redo it all he would. He loved her, he still loved her and he always would. They were such a perfect match for each other and everyone knew it. So when the papers had shown Bucky leaving a club with some nameless blonde, no one could believe it. Except _her_.

He tried to explain, tried to tell her that nothing had happened, because nothing _really_ had happened. All he did was drive the girl home after some guy tried to manhandle her. She was a mess and Bucky felt responsible for making sure she got home safe considering he was the one who had to scare the creep away from her. So he drove her home.

He hadn’t been counting on the girl breaking down into tears as soon as they pulled up to her apartment. She was thanking him profusely, more than he thought was necessary considering he hadn’t done much…but it was the thought of what _could_ have happened that had terrified her. So Bucky helped her shaking frame into the apartment and kept her company for a few hours until she calmed down.

He just wanted to be a decent person and help out, but he forgot that he _wasn’t_ just a normal guy.

The paparazzi had jumped at the opportunity, and he was stupid for not being more careful. The headlines in the next day’s paper and the provided photographic evidence of him helping the woman out of his car and into her apartment was all it took.

His friends were bombarding his phone. Questions were being asked and his own mother had screamed at him when she called him at seven in the morning. But most importantly, he was terrified to go home. He didn’t know what waited for him when he finally got back. Was she still there? Was she angry? Sad? Heartbroken? Confused? Or…was she gone?

He hoped she wasn’t gone. He could fix everything else, he could make her happy and explain it all to her, but if she had already left, it told him that she wouldn’t want to hear it.

She was still there.

Her car was parked in its usual spot, and he felt his stomach drop when he pulled up beside it and realised that he had no idea what he was going to say. He’d just need to explain it all, she was so understanding, a kind and loving woman who trusted him and his word.

_Just explain, and it’ll all be fine…_

The house was silent when he walked in, he felt like the world was judging him even though he was completely alone. She must have been upstairs in their room. He still remembered when they moved in together, it had already been a year and he knew what the next step would be. He already had the ring…all he was waiting for was the timing.

He could hear her sniffles, her harsh breathing as she probably wiped the tears from her eyes. The sounds chipped away at his heart.

It was only when he entered to see her bags packed that his heart completely shattered. 

* * *

She had left him.

He didn’t know something could hurt that much, but it did, and he did stupid things when he was hurt. He made mistakes and always regretted them. _Always_. It was one of the things he loved about her, the way she could calm him down and help him see that whatever he was thinking probably wasn’t worth it. She balanced him out, but the moment she left his world had crumbled all around him and he couldn’t…he just couldn’t deal with it.

It _hurt_.

And there was only one way to take his mind off of it, to try and feel something else even if he was disgusted with himself afterwards…he was always disgusted with himself anyway, he didn’t deserve anything else. He deserved all the pain and all the judgement his friends and family threw his way, because the moment she had stepped out of his door he had gone back to old habits, and the moment he had gone back to old habits, was the moment he knew she had stepped out of his _life_ for good.

Cheating was her deal breaker.

While he had never, and would _never_ cheat on her, it sure looked that way when the paps snapped him with another nameless girl a week later…this one he was with for all the wrong reasons. Even though he told himself that he’d give her time, time to settle before he explained that nothing happened, he couldn’t take it.

He needed her with him, like he needed air.

But she had been so quick to tell him that she needed time, that she needed to go, that he needed to give her space, that she didn’t know what to think…

He broke down. He really did. The longer she was away, the more he felt like she wouldn’t be coming back, and it killed him to think about it. So he did something stupid and petty, and figured if she wanted to hurt him, he’d hurt her right back.

He didn’t know it would have come to this.

He couldn’t have known, but he should have…that’s what he told himself. He should have been there, he should have just told her straight away. He shouldn’t have cared that she wanted space, he should have only let her have it after he cleared the air between them.

But he didn’t.

What he did do, was make one bad decision after another without caring for the consequences because he was hurt and he was selfish.

_You’re a pathetic child…who willingly wants to hurt the one they love? A sadist, that’s who. You don’t deserve her, you don’t deserve her forgiveness and you’ll never have it._

It was strange how one’s own mind could be such a dark place. He didn’t realise that if he was thinking such dark thoughts that she herself could have been struggling with the same thing.

_What’s wrong with you? Did he finally see you’re not good enough for him? Did he finally realise how high above you he really is? He doesn’t need you, he can have anyone he wants so why would he settle for someone as plain as you? He couldn’t even wait to get rid of you, look how much happier he is now that you’re gone…_

The human mind was toxic.

Unfortunately, antidepressants and alcohol were _also_ toxic…and they found that out the hard way.

* * *

So here he was, a broken man in a broken world.

When they told him she had overdosed, he didn’t know what to think. She didn’t drink and she definitely didn’t do drugs.

When they told him she had overdosed on _antidepressants_ , he finally understood.

And he hated himself for it.

Steve and Wanda told him that it wasn’t his fault, that they couldn’t have known, that she hid all the pain so well…but he knew, he _knew_ that she didn’t drink and that it had probably slipped her mind that alcohol and meds didn’t mix because she had never used either of them, especially not together.

That dark part of his mind spoke up again, saying terrible things…things that made him want to scream and cry and beg her to wake up just so he could tell her how much he needed her, how he couldn’t be without her.

_Maybe…maybe she didn’t forget. Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing, maybe you drove her to this. You’re the reason she’s here, you’re the reason she started drinking, you’re the reason she was on medication in the first place…the only thing killing her…was **you**._

But he saw it all, when he closed his eyes. He saw her warm smile and kind eyes. The same smile she’d pass on to their little girl, when the time came. She always love his eyes, and Bucky knew she wanted their kids to have their father’s eyes.

_Kids._

_Marriage._

They’d spoken about it all together, and he’d planned every detail in his head perfectly. She’d look so beautiful in white, her smile would bring tears to his eyes and his mother would be a complete mess as she watched her eldest finally make the woman of his dreams his wife. Who was he kidding? His old man would be a mess too, and so would he.

They’d have a little boy and a little girl. In his perfect world they’d both look like her, but in truth, neither of them cared what the kids looked like. They would be _theirs_ and that was more than enough for both of them.

But that…that was no longer his reality. Because he had _seen_ his world crash down around him, it hit instantly and he could have sworn he heard a scream echo in his ears the moment it did. It had torn his life in two, leaving only a past he was desperate to hold onto, and a future he wanted no part in.

Not anymore.

* * *

**_“James? I’m so sorry…there was nothing else we could do.”_ **


	7. One Day (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Abuse/violence.   
> Set during TWS after Bucky is wiped. Italics = Russian (I think it's only one line). 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this all so far! :)

It had been 4 hours. 4 hours since they wiped him, and 4 hours until the guard watching over him finally snapped. He was under strict orders not to engage in any sort of exchange with the Asset, but he couldn’t help it. This man was a killer, a pathetic killer who let the higher-ups treat him like some sort of animal. And it was _his_ failure that had lost them a handful of agents. But they still favoured him, he was still their favourite pet. It wasn’t fair.

“Not so tough now, huh?”

He was at his most dangerous after his memory was wiped, but he also followed orders more efficiently - that was the only reason the guard knew he would remain unharmed. Pierce wasn’t happy, the Soldier had been showing signs of resistance. Attacking the docs and hesitating when he had a clear shot at taking out Captain America once and for all. Had he been more focused on the bridge - _less distracted_ \- maybe he would have been able to finish the job. But he couldn’t care less about the Winter Soldier lashing out at a few doctors, what he _did_ care about was the number of friends he had lost on that bridge, all because _he_ couldn’t get the job done.  

“You can’t even answer me, can you?” The guard sneered. “Just an obedient little mutt.”

The lack of response bothered him more than anything. It was something parents told their kids to do - _just ignore them, they want you to react_. And it annoyed him that something so childish was getting to him. All the Soldier did was stare at the ground, he didn’t know any better. How was someone so pathetic, so dangerous? He couldn’t even _look up_ without permission.

“Look at me!”

The Soldier’s head snapped to the side as soon as the strong backhand made contact with his cheek, but still he showed no outward signs of having felt it. He was no stranger to pain, he knew not to question their methods, he only obeyed orders, and his last order was to stand down. His eyes remained on the floor, until he heard a familiar voice. He didn’t know why it was familiar, but he knew it was important.    

_“If he tries to touch you again, break his hand.”_

The guard stiffened as soon as he heard the voice behind him. He didn’t have to look at the Soldier to know that he had finally reacted. And true enough, he was on his feet, unnerving gaze finally leaving the ground and directed over the guard’s shoulder. She approached slowly, each step echoing in the guard’s ears despite their silence. She came to a halt beside him, and he felt his pulse race.

“What’s your name?”

Her voice sounded so soft, so _kind_ , it was almost difficult to believe she was a killer. But the stories spoke for themselves and he knew not to test her patience.

“Craig, ma’am. Craig Andrews.”

He chanced a glance to his left, and she nodded absentmindedly, eyes still locked on the Soldier. They darted across the new welt on his cheek, and narrowed for a split second.  

“Did it make you feel any better? Hitting him.” She explained when she noticed Craig’s confusion.

“I…” Craig hesitated, swallowing nervously. He didn’t know how to respond to her, the best option would be honesty, but he feared her reaction. _Did_ it make him feel better, striking the man who failed his friends?

“Yes. It did.”

She hummed quietly in acknowledgement. “Good. That’s good.”

Craig felt uneasy. She was still watching the Soldier, and a quick look at the Asset confirmed that he was watching her too. It was a position nobody ever wanted to be in. Everyone knew that she was his handler, but what that meant to her was a mystery. Did she care about him because he was her responsibility? Or was she as cold as the rumours suggested?

“Do it again.”

Craig’s brows furrowed in confusion, thinking he must have misheard her. “Ma’am?”

“I said, hit him again.” Her eyes finally turned to him, and he shrunk under her glare. It felt like she was searing a hole into his face, but he still hesitated.

She noted his reluctance, and her voice hardened, drawing each syllable out as if she were talking to a child. “That’s an _order_.”    

Craig’s eyes flickered down to the gun strapped to her thigh before landing on the impassive Soldier. He was still watching the woman, unblinking. Anyone else would have withered under his pale gaze, especially after a memory wipe, but she seemed unfazed by his presence. Craig swallowed his apprehension, squaring his shoulders and recalling the memory of Captain America’s little friend putting a bullet in his best friend’s head.

The anger came instantly, and he lashed out.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the interception. All it took was a quick whir of his cybernetic arm, and the Soldier’s fist had engulfed his own. Craig panicked for a moment, desperately trying to pull against his hold, but all thoughts of resistance fled as soon as he felt the first of his bones crack. The pressure only increased, and he barely recognised the shouts bouncing off the walls as his own. Even when the Soldier released him -after breaking all there was to break- it did nothing to relieve the excruciating pain.

Craig fell to his knees, clutching his shattered hand to his chest. His screams finally subsided, leaving harsh pants in their wake, and his heart was pounding in his ears, but he could still hear the pitiful _tsk_ -ing coming from beside him. She crouched down to his level, and he had to force his eyes open, lest he suffered further for being disrespectful.

“That’s a shame, Craig.” She shook her head in faux sympathy, holding her hand out in a silent request. He didn’t want to let her see it, but he feared what would happen if he didn’t. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he reluctantly rested his ruined hand in her open palm. She was gentle, running her fingers across his knuckles with a feather-light touch. His shoulders sagged in a mix of relief and pain.  

“But at least now you know…” Her fingers had turned to stone, digging into his broken bones lightly. Craig groaned, teeth grinding together and his free hand unconsciously latching onto her wrist. It did nothing to deter her, and he knew that this was something else, no regular human was this strong.

“That it’s _my_ orders he follows. Just like _you_. The only difference-“ He cried out desperately as her grip tightened harshly ”-is that _he_ is priceless, and _you_ are expendable.”

She let go of him suddenly, and he scrambled back, clutching his arm to his chest once more. Her shadow fell across his form and he looked up in terror. She had that same blank look in her eyes that the Soldier did. Unfeeling and cold. The look of a killer. She leaned forward, hands clasped behind her back and face hovering over his own. The threat in her stare held him in his place.

“So go, and tell the your equally expendable friends that if anyone ever touches my soldier again, I’ll _personally_ break every bone in their body.” She whispered, and Craig now knew how deceiving that soft voice was. Just another way to lure you in, to make you let your guard down. He should have known, she was a trained killer after all.  

He nodded shakily, almost tripping over his own feet as he clambered out of the room.

As soon as the door slammed shut, she pivoted on her heel to face the Soldier. She had felt his gaze on her from the moment she entered the room, and the new emptiness she found in his eyes sent a pang of hurt through her. It would be a miracle if he even remembered who she was.

He stood still as she approached, and he didn’t object when she gently sat him down on the cot. Their eyes had never left each other’s, not even when her fingers ghosted over the new wound on his cheek. She tucked strands of his dark hair behind his ear to get a closer look, and when she met his gaze she could have sworn that his eyes softened. So did hers.

“I’m sorry…” She murmured, more thinking aloud than anything else.

All traces of her anger were gone, and his lips twitched down in a weak frown. He didn’t understand why she was sorry, but for some reason her distress triggered his own.

Despite his confusion, she knew she had more than enough to apologise for. Too much, even.

For the way they treated him. For the way she had just used him, like everyone else did. She didn’t ask him to break the guard’s hand, he was ordered. And she always hated seeing him forced to bend to another’s will. Yet she had forced him to do her bidding just like they always did, and she hated herself for it.

Or perhaps she was apologising because of the weight she felt resting on her heart. Both literally and figuratively. The weight she tried so desperately to hide from others, the weight of a weakness and the weight of a secret. His identity hung around her neck in a display of secret affection, yet she did nothing to free him of his shackles.

She never had the chance.

But she promised him. Every time they were left alone, she would promise him.

_One day, one day we’ll leave this place…_

She blinked out of her stupor as soon as she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Slowly, _hesitantly_ , his rough fingertips brushed over her own cheek, and she could see his confusion in the furrow of his brow. Her eyes fluttered at the touch and he was transfixed. She was so calm, so carefree in his presence…so _trusting_. A foreign feeling bubbled up in his chest.

He was wondering why it was familiar, why it felt right to have her so close. But he didn’t have very long to contemplate it.

His hand was back at his side in the blink of an eye, and in the same moment the door was thrown open.

Her head snapped around, angered by the interruption, and it only took her a split second to have the barrel of her Glock aimed at the intruder’s head. He held his hands up in surrender as soon as he saw the murderous look on her face.

_“What?”_

Rumlow was taken aback by the amount of bite she managed to force into a single word, but he schooled his features into a mask of indifference as she lowered the gun.

“Pierce wants the Asset.” His dark eyes flickered over to the Soldier, and he bit back his disapproval when he noted how close they were.

“In a minute.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

“He wants him _now_ , Nine.” He looked at her pointedly, remaining one of the few who were unafraid to challenge her. But even he knew it was foolish to argue with her where the Asset was involved. He knew it was wrong, but the Soldier still did his job, and his soft spot for Nine ensure that he never told Pierce just how compromised she was.

“I said, _in a minute_.” Her frame tensed in agitation, and he mistook her fear for anger. She knew what was coming.

Rumlow’s eyes darted between the pair, and he noted that the Soldier had levelled him with a blank glare of his own as soon as she let her anger boil over.

Like a guard dog, daring him to raise her ire again.

Brock always told her than nothing good would come of her… _infatuation_. If Pierce ever found out, she’d be dead, regardless of how high up on the food chain she was.

He wouldn’t waste his breath this time though. Instead, his mouth snapped shut to contain whatever snarky comment first came to mind, and he swiftly left the room.

The soldier watched her chin drop to her chest in defeat. She looked tired and worried when she looked back up at him. Her eyes darted over his face as if trying to frantically commit it to memory, and he didn’t know why her desperation made his heart race in panic.

She knew something he didn’t, but he wouldn’t ask. It wasn’t his place.

“I guess we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

She stood up, and offered him a hand. He hesitated, knowing he didn’t need it, but he took it anyway. It was soft under his touch, worn from combat, but softer than his own nonetheless. His brows twitched as images flashed though his mind. He had held that hand before…he saw it bloodied and bruised, with a first aid kit beside it, and he saw it pinned by her head as she writhed beneath him.

His hand jolted away unintentionally, and she looked back at him in concern. He was staring at her, something unrecognisable in his gaze. She didn’t try to understand it. Whenever they wiped him it always took time for him to gather his bearings, and she wouldn’t pretend that everything was the same between them when 50% of their bond was gone every time.

They walked through the hallways in silence, both lost in thought until his raspy voice finally broke the silence.

“Nine?”

His voice was so soft she thought she’d imagined it. It wasn’t her name, at least not her real one, but it was a start.

“Yes?”

She only realised he had stopped walking beside her when a strong hand gently grasped her wrist. His eyes slipped shut, more images fluttering behind his eyelids, and she froze as soon as his fingers experimentally entwined with her own.

“One day…” He sounded uncertain, like he wasn’t sure he was saying the right thing, and he eased his eyes open.

He had no idea how much hearing those two words meant to her. He couldn’t know, not without her verbalising feelings he could no longer name. It didn’t matter how much of her he remembered, as long as he knew that she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. As long as he knew she wished for his freedom more than she wished for anything else in her entire life. As long as he knew that she loved him, and that she always would.

His shoulders tensed when he felt soft lips kiss the corner of his own, and that foreign feeling was tearing at his chest again. That desperation to do something, to say something. But he didn’t know what. He wanted her closer, but he didn’t know why, and he hated not knowing.

She wasn’t usually so touchy when they were out in the open, but this time it was different. This time HYDRA would be asking him to do the impossible, and if everything went according to plan at the Triskelion…

She smiled at him, her thumb fondly brushing against his stubbled cheek. Because she knew that his _one day_ had come, and if Fury succeeded with his part of the mission, he’d know it too.

There was a reason she had requested Steve Rogers be assigned to the Lemurian Star fiasco, and after 3 long years undercover, she’d finally be able to give _James Buchanan Barnes_ the freedom he deserved. Even if that meant she’d never see him again.

At least that way, the dog tags around her neck wouldn’t feel so much like a noose.


	8. Lost & Found (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky still struggles, but it doesn’t feel so bad when she’s around.

It was happening again.

She could hear the groans and whimpers leaving the body beside her. The pain and anguish seeping into his very bones as his body jerked in an emotion he hid so well in the waking world.

_Fear._

It scared her to know that he _could_ be scared.

He was so raw and beautiful. A _masterpiece_ , she always teased him, there was no other way he could be so perfect…he couldn’t be real, she would say. He found himself blushing in those moments, another thing she didn’t know he could do, but she sure made the most of it when she realised he could. He never understood it, how she would always make him feel like he was more than a man…more than a _monster_.

Like he was her knight in shining armour, like he deserved all of the happiness that the world had to offer…like he deserved _her_.

He didn’t, he knew that. Anyone who knew what he had done, knew that. It was ironic really, she treated him as he should have treated her. As he _tried_ to treat her. It was difficult at first, _trusting_ , and _caring_ and _needing_ someone else. He had only ever _hurt_ , _tolerated_ and _obeyed_ , and then he met _her_.

Was she human? He had a hard time believing she was. He didn’t know there were humans like her in the world, even stories didn’t have humans like her in them. The fact that she was his, so wholly and willingly, was a mystery even the greatest of detectives wouldn’t be able to solve.

He asked her once, how she could stand to be with someone who had done the things he had done…what was it she had said to him?

**_I sometimes wonder the same thing…_** his eyes had shot over to her in alarm, and then he realised that he had misunderstood.

**_I’m sure there are stronger women out there, ones that could help you more than I could…ones that know what it’s like_** -she added on sadly.  

**_But you’re here…with me. I don’t care how you got here, Bucky._** She had shaken her head, her wide eyes looking at him as if pleading for him to understand. _**I just care that you’re here now, and you may not be a boy scout, but I don’t want you to be one. I just want you to be you, because that’s enough for me, and I can only hope that I’m enough for you.**_

She had shrugged, looking up at him with that small smile she always wore to reassure him. As if she was the one who had committed all sorts of atrocities in her life, as if she was the one who didn’t deserve _him_. He couldn’t handle it, the mere thought of her thinking she wasn’t enough for _him_ of all people. There wasn’t a thing in the world that could convince him that she wasn’t perfection personified. How could she doubt herself?

But that was her point, wasn’t it?  

Everyone doubted their worth, as if it could be measured in some unknown units. They never realised that no single soul had a single value. A person who meant nothing to one, could mean everything to another. It was an infinite spectrum.

The important thing was to find that other person you meant everything to, and they’d both done that.

He never questioned her feelings after that.

“Bucky? Babe, you okay?”

She propped herself up onto her elbow, facing him in the darkness with only the light of the moon illuminating his grimacing features. It was a warm night and Bucky had left the window open before he crawled into bed beside her.

She knew better than to wake him, but more often than not, a gentle stroke of his arm would do the trick and he’d wake himself up. His skin was warm to the touch, unnaturally so, and she wasn’t prepared for the animalistic growl that left his chest. When his cybernetic hand wrapped itself around her neck and pinned her underneath his own tense frame, she could see the emotions flash through his haunted eyes.

The fear and self-loathing tethered to his nightmares, the anger and defensiveness that the fear brought out in him, and finally, the shocked realisation when he noticed he was no longer in that dark place.

He was there, in their room, with _her_.

Bucky had thrown himself off of their bed harshly, his brows furrowing and bottom lip trembling as he stared at his open palms. The look on his face was one of pure betrayal, unwilling to believe that his own hands had hurt the one thing in the world he had promised himself he would protect with his life.

“Bucky? Sweetie, look at me…”

He flinched when he felt her soft hand rub his back soothingly, not caring that his shirt was clinging to him from the sweat. He couldn’t convince himself to meet her worried gaze, he didn’t want to see her fear of him, he didn’t wa-

“Hey, it’s okay…you’re okay.” She didn’t give him a choice, and instead he felt her soft fingers cupping his cheek.

Didn’t she realise that it wasn’t _his_ safety he cared about? He deserved this…the nightmares, the guilt, the self-loathing. He deserved it all. He understood that, and he had come to terms with it, it no longer mattered to him. Bucky knew it was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life, but he could wear his mask of indifference well, it was second nature by now.

The only moments he didn’t need to hide his emotions were when he was with her. It was all she asked of him - to not hide from her. She knew his story and she knew he suffered each day with the memories of both what he'd done, and what had been done _to_ him. She never tried to fix him, she told him he didn’t need to be fixed.

**_You’re not broken, Bucky. You’re dealing with things I could never imagine, and I’m not going to pretend I know what that feels like. I will do whatever it takes to help you in whatever way you need me to, but the only way I can do that is if you don’t pretend around me._ **

He hadn’t understood what she meant by that.

**_You know my sister has depression…if you ask her now, she’ll say she’s better. But it’s not just something you can fix, it’s not faulty wiring, it’s something that stays inside you and waits to kick you when you’re down. So don’t tell me you’re okay if you’re not, you don’t need to pretend to be happy for me to be happy, you just need to be honest._ **

So no, he didn’t hide from her. He put his pride away for the first time, and allowed himself to admit that he wasn’t okay. He didn’t know if he ever would be, but he knew he could try as long as he had her there with him.

“The b-baby…”

His eyes flickered down to the small bump in anguish. The bump he adored as much as he adored her. Hurting either of them was his greatest fear, hurting _both_ of them would kill him.

“The baby’s fine, I promise.” She reassured him with a comforting smile.

“I-I hurt you…”

“Nah, you didn’t.” She sounded so nonchalant, as if his attack was no big deal. “See? I’m fine.” She made a show of shifting her chin left and right to prove she was unmarked. It did nothing to ease his mind, but he appreciated her effort. 

“Just an accident…reminds me of that time I threw a shoe at you.” She trailed off with a chuckle, taking his hand into her own and holding it to the small baby-bump. 

“Do you remember that?” She asked when he flinched, trying to get his mind off of his worries. 

Bucky could feel the small, half-hearted smile tug at his lips. “The day you forgot I stayed over and freaked when I walked out of your bathroom?”

“Yeah! Nailed you right in the head with my red heels and then passed out when you started bleeding.” She laughed outright, and damn it if it wasn’t one of the most contagious things he had ever heard.

She had that ability. Something he didn’t question, but appreciated more than he had ever admitted to her. The ability to take his mind off of the dark thoughts, to make him laugh and smile and _happy_.

She made him happy…

“I love you, you know that?” He whispered, eyes finally locking onto her own as he absentmindedly stroked small circles across her belly.

“Sure do, and I love you too, baby.”

The kiss he pulled her into was sweet but heavy at the same time, and they broke apart with matching smiles. He hoped to one day show her just how much she meant to him, and _she_ hoped he’d one day realise that he meant exactly the same to her. 

“Now get your butt back in bed, Sergeant.”

He grinned.

“Yes, ma’am.”


	9. Do Better (Tony Stark daughter!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, mentions of illness and death
> 
> Based on the following request...pretty detailed.
> 
> (SPOILER) Tony has a daughter but she thinks he doesn’t like her because shes a product of a one night stand? Tony forgets about her dance recital and attends Peters decatholon, and shes heartbroken and she cries and tells him its fine because hes made his choice? And she ends missing school for two weeks and Tony finds out and assumes she was doing drugs and such but she was at the hospital with her mother who doesnt have much time left? Something real angsty?

Her mother was a dancer. Beautiful and graceful, with an elegance that seemed so effortless it left the audience in awe. It was the music that had first peaked her interest, upbeat and optimistic, haunting and bittersweet…it could captivate an audience, hold them prisoner and force them to feel the plethora of emotions communicated in each and every note.  

Watching her mother on stage, drifting about like a feather in the wind, had inspired her to do the same. There was no one she loved more than her mother and dancing had long ago become her way of expressing herself, of showing her audience how to feel, so that they might one day understand how she herself felt.

She may have been a teenager, but she already knew that dancing would be her life. Her mother had never been more proud of her than the day she won her first competition, and their close bond was only strengthened each weekend they would spend rehearsing in her mother’s studio, laughing and learning together.

They hadn’t been to the studio in two years now, and it had already been four months since she had moved in with her father. Not that anyone knew he was her father - he didn’t want to share that information with the world.

He claimed it was for her safety, she thought it was because of his shame.

He had a good life now, it had its ups and downs where saving the world was involved, but he had friends, fame and fortune and even a wonderful woman who loved him. He didn’t need her there to stain the new reputation he’d forged for himself.

Tony Stark was no longer the reckless playboy the world used to know.

It was a life he had left in the past.

And she was just a reminder of who he no longer wished to be.

She expected the disbelief at first. A paternity test confirmed Tony’s doubts, and while he was obviously more concerned with Pepper’s reaction to the information, she didn’t take it to heart. She was just a stranger to him, just as he was to her. It forced an awkwardness between them that she had never experienced before. Everything was always so much easier with her mother - she knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

Tony wasn’t around much, and when he was, he had other priorities to deal with. That’s not to say that he neglected her. No, no, whatever she needed he would provide without second thought. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite realise that what she wanted most was a father.  

* * *

The rift between them had formed early. He didn’t understand - _couldn’t_ understand- and she didn’t try to make him.

_“What the hell is this?”_

She hadn’t been paying enough attention, pulling her textbooks out of her schoolbag in the living area so that she could study. Tony’s eyes were glued to it the moment it fell to the floor, disbelief and disappointment battled it out across his features and she hated seeing either of them.

He’d been mad, of course he’d been mad. She would have been too if their roles were reversed. The small, unmarked, zip-lock bag was impossible to miss as it sat on the dark floor, or at least the handful of little white pills were.

Those horrified dark eyes had drilled a hole into her face, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was still too shocked to even blink. Tony snatched the bag out of her hands the moment she scooped it from the floor, and only then did she feel her own panic.

_“No, wait, I need that! Please, just- I can explain! Stop, don’t!”_

He flushed them down the toilet despite her frantic protests. He was livid, outraged even…but so was she. He hadn’t asked, just assumed. She needed them, she really did.

_“What the hell!”_

He ignored her outrage.

_“Where did you get those?”_

He was surprisingly calm, but she could see his rage bubbling beneath the surface. It made its appearance real quick when she refused to answer.

She was grounded after that, of course she was. With an escort to and from school, eyes on her no matter where she went, it was almost impossible to not feel the constant presence of his disappointment and distrust. Midtown was a good school, not as comfortable or familiar as her old school, where the kids didn’t compete to be the next Tony Stark, but it was nice enough.

She knew why he’d sent her there. Just another pair of eyes he could have on her during school hours. Peter Parker.

It wasn’t that she disliked Peter, but it was significantly harder to see him as a friend when he was so eager to impress her father. He’d do anything that Tony asked of him, and she could see the strong bond they shared. It was easier in the early days, but the longer she knew them, the more she realised that Peter had a better relationship with her own father than she did. It was difficult to not feel jealous of that, but she tried her best.

She understood why Tony cared about him so much. He was a good kid, special, smart, a superhero, someone Tony had much more in common with. It didn’t matter that she was essentially half of her father, that they shared more than just blood. It wasn’t enough. She doubted it ever would be.  

Peter was like a puppy though. Always wide-eyed and stuttering when he saw her. Half of the time she wondered if some of the awe he sent Tony’s way was transferred onto her for no good reason. Did he think Tony loved her? Did he envy her as much as she envied him? Did he think they shared a healthy relationship, that he was the best father anyone could’ve ever dreamed of? He wasn’t, not to her. But he was to Peter, so maybe he just assumed she had it even better than he did because of her surname.

Despite the hurt look he’d always adopt when she ghosted him, she went out of her way to avoid Peter and any of the negative feelings his presence would inadvertently give rise to. 

* * *

Two weeks passed and it didn’t get much easier. Tony wasn’t kidding about constant supervision, and even though he always seemed to forget small ‘irrelevant’ details, this was apparently serious enough to gain his full attention. Or maybe he just told F.R.I.D.A.Y to remember for him. That was more likely.

He’d taken it upon himself to avoid her lately. He was still hurt and disappointed, that much she knew for certain, so she stayed out of his way as much as possible.

She volunteered at the hospital. At least that’s what she told Tony all those months ago. It was a little further out, away from Manhattan, but he never questioned her. He probably threw that bit of information under the ‘irrelevant’ pile.  

_“Hi, sweetheart.”_

Even laying there in a hospital bed, she still looked beautiful. Her smile still lit up the room, banishing the dark shadows that had settled under her eyes.

_“Hey, mom.”_

They spoke, as they always did, about anything and everything that came to mind. But the uncomfortable silence that stretched the moment Tony was mentioned did not go unnoticed.

_“What is it, kiddo? Talk to me.”_

She did.

_“You remember when you first told me about him? And,“_ she sighed, _“and I was so excited.”_

Her mother chuckled.

_“Of course. You were seven, and you always said that one day you’d build a plane with your own two hands - just like he would - and fly over to meet him.”_

They both smiled at the memory, one full of admiration and the other full of disappointment.  

_“What is it?”_ Her mother whispered, her smile slipping away. A thumb brushed over her knuckles, light, but supportive nonetheless.

_“I wish I never met him, mom. I wish…I-“_

The tears came out of nowhere, and she scolded herself for them. Here she was, crying like a baby, as if Tony was some monster that personally tormented her. He was a good man, they both knew it, but she’d heard a quote somewhere about meeting your heroes. How they always let you down, or something like that.

She didn’t mean the words, they bother knew that. She just wanted her dad to love her as much as she loved him.

It was unrealistic to think that all would be well, that the fantasy her seven-year-old mind had conjured about a happy family, with two loving parents who had found each other after years apart, could be a reality. Now she was old enough to know the truth. Her father and mother weren’t in love, Cinderella hadn’t found her Prince and lost him for a short while before their happily ever after.

She was the product of a rowdy weekend, the type that Tony Stark was infamous for. Her mother meant nothing to him, _she_ meant nothing to him.

_“-I wish things were different.”_

Then she was wrapped up in comforting arms, the same arms that held her close on cold nights when the power cut out, the same arms that guided her in her first dance, the same arms that were growing weaker with each day, and the ones she’d miss more than anything.

_“Oh, sweetheart…so do I.”_

* * *

They talked for a while after that, her mother encouraging her to take a chance with Tony, to _try_. And she promised she would. A few days had passed and Tony was back from a business trip. She found him in his work shop, as usual.

_“Da-“_ she cleared her throat uncomfortably _“-Tony?”_

He looked surprised to see her, and though she didn’t notice it, concern flickered through his eyes when he noticed how nervous she looked. He knew he’d been a little rough on her lately, but it was for good reason. He didn’t know what she got up to in her free time, and obviously he should have been paying more attention. He wasn’t the best example of a normal childhood, but he drew the line at drugs.

_“Hey, what’s up?”_

She took a step into the room, hesitated, and then continued forward. It was rare for him to give anyone his full attention when he was working on a project, but in his mind, she would always be an exception. Even if he didn’t know how to express that to her.

_“I, uh, I was wondering…and you can say no if you want, I know it’s not really your thing-“_

_“Kid? Breathe.”_ He smiled, amused, and despite everything she felt and thought, it had the same effect on her that her mother’s always had.

_“I have a recital coming up in a few weeks, my first one for Midtown - there’s a ticket on the fridge - I was wondering if you’d like to come watch? You don’t have to…”_

She shifted nervously, gaze glued to anything but him.

She missed the way his eyes softened.

_“I’ll be there.”_

* * *

She couldn’t explain the intense nervousness that flooded her system whenever she thought about the recital. Well, she could, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t just get over it. Ever since she was a child, she’d tried her hardest in school, as if her father was secretly watching her the whole time and she wanted to make him proud.  

That obviously wasn’t the case, but now she had the chance to do so. Dancing was in her blood, it was the half of her that she knew best, and the half that he knew least. She wanted him to see that half. She wanted him to know who she was, and who her mother had been.  

The school had been bustling with activity. If the students weren’t talking about the dance recital, they were talking about the scholastic decathlon happening on the same day. The group of students - including Peter, much to her relief - had left the day before and were expected to do well.

As the school day came to an end, her nerves had hit her full force.

Proud parents and family members had steadily flowed into the room and found their seats, and with each passing moment the nerves faded. So did her hope.

It was a strange feeling, the anticipation of watching each person walk through the door only to realise that they weren’t him. Her mother was always one of the first in, sitting as close to the front row as possible with an encouraging thumbs up and a beaming smile.

The movements were automatic, ingrained in her mind and replicated flawlessly. Her brain was too busy wondering where he was, her eyes too busy searching the crowd to see if she had perhaps missed him coming in. But no, by the time the music had been replaced by applause it was clear to her - Tony hadn’t come.

* * *

At first she tried to push the disappointment and hurt away when she got home that day. Tony was a busy man, and she couldn’t expect him to remember every detail of her life. He probably had a meeting, or maybe he was off saving the world…she couldn’t jump to conclusions and assume he’d just forgotten about her altogether.

But she quickly learned that was exactly the case.

Walking into school the next morning was unlike anything she’d seen before. The team had won in D.C. and the students flocked around them like they were celebrities. With her head down, she made her way to her locker, brows furrowing every time she heard a particular name mentioned.

_“I heard he was there to see that Paul Barker kid…”_

_“Peter Parker.”_

_“Yeah, that’s what I said.”_

_“Who was?”_

_“Tony Stark!”_

_“Shut up! No way…”_

_“There, look!”_

And sure enough, flashing across all of the monitors in the school was a proud Tony Stark standing beside an excitable Peter Parker. _Mr Stark’s protege_ , that’s what the kids called him - _the Stark Internship had really paid off._

The hurt came in waves, every time she’d try to rationalise, she’d come to the same conclusion.  

* * *

_“So, how’d it go?”_

Her mother was excited when she saw her. She’d always be her number one fan.

_“It was good, my teacher said I have a lot of potential.”_

_“Oh, sweetie. I always knew you were special.”_

That soft, watery smile was on her mother’s face again, the same smile she always wore when she watched her dance. She couldn’t help but smile back, giving a grateful squeeze to the hand she’d been holding since she arrived at the hospital.

_“And your father? What did he think?”_

It took every ounce of strength she had to maintain her smile; she didn’t have the heart to ruin her mother’s mood.

_“Yeah, um…I- I think he really enjoyed it.”_

Another squeeze of the hand, another smile, and more words of praise.

Her mother’s happiness would always be worth the guilt.

* * *

_“What the hell do you mean you don’t know where she is?!”_

_“Tony, honey-“_

_“No!”_

The room grew silent. Tony rarely raised his voice at his friends, and he never raised his voice at Pepper. Happy had nothing to tell him, he was at as much of a loss as Tony was. His job was to ensure the safety of the youngest Stark. They had been friends for so long that Happy knew exactly how big of an ask that was.

Tony Stark loved the kid, he really did.

It had only been a few months, but there was nothing Tony wouldn’t do for her - Happy knew that. Despite not knowing how to even begin being a father, Tony was trying.

The disappointment Happy felt in himself was monumental. Between babysitting Parker and protecting Pepper, his hands were often full, but that was no excuse in his eyes. He’d failed his friend. Tony trusted him to keep an eye on her and Happy had trusted his men to do just that in his stead.

Tony Stark’s only child had been missing for two days, and he’d only found out after he’d gotten back from an impromptu meeting in Boston.

_“We don’t know how she managed to slip past our guys, Tony-“_

_“And no one could pick up a damn phone and tell me this?”_

Panic, he was familiar with, fear too. But there was something different, something unexplainable and primal when a parent felt that their child was in danger. That was a fear he didn’t know how to deal with. _Did she slip past? Or was she taken? Was she hurt? Was she even still al-?_

_No, no, she- she couldn’t be…_

_“Damn it!”_

A mug was swiped off the counter, colliding with the fridge and land in pieces. Tony scoffed, dark, unblinking eyes following the trails of coffee as they slithered down the surface and almost mockingly seeped into the envelope pinned there with a magnet.

No one dared to move as he slowly made his way over to the fridge. The envelope glared right back at him, the printed label hitting him like a punch to the gut.

**MIDTOWN 2019 DANCE RECITAL  
NOVEMBER 2nd 2019  
TWO (2) TICKETS**

He plucked the envelope from its place, paying no mind to the coffee coating his fingers nor the puddle he was standing in. His shoulders slumped.

_“Damn it…”_

* * *

The day after her recital was spent at the hospital. The nurses pitied her too much to ever send her home, knowing that she was losing her mother, and not knowing that her father was very much in the picture. The hurt from the previous day still simmered under the surface, but being there with her mother often reminded her of what was really important in life.

But things wouldn’t get easier that day.

The doctor was a good man, kindhearted and supportive, he did all he could to help them. But it hadn’t been enough. The mind was a funny thing - she’d known for months that her mother didn’t have long left, yet irrational hope still remained when he walked through those doors. Hope that he’d have good news, that somehow, some miracle would allow her to keep the one person in the world that mattered to her most.  

The news was never good, and time was running out.

* * *

There was a knock at the door the next day. Nobody usually visited other than the doctor and the nurses.

_“Oh…”_

_“Weren’t expecting me?”_

Tony smiled at how surprised she looked, but it was quick to dim when he took a good look at her. Her face was thinner, skin paler, and she looked so very tired. But the smile she shot back was just as warm as he remembered.

When his daughter arrived on his doorstep she’d told him that her mother was gone. After noting the despair it brought her to speak of the woman who had raised her, Tony decided he’d never bring it up again. At the time, he assumed that ‘gone’ meant her mother had passed, and though he’d told himself he would check, one disaster after another drew his attention instead.

_I should have been there for her,_ he thought. There were a lot of things he should have done. It was just another thing to add to the long list of things he had to make up for.

His eyes darted to his daughter, curled up on a small couch and finally asleep after hours of convincing. The fear that had settled in his heart the day before finally abated, and he allowed himself to breathe again.

_“How- How did you find me?”_

Tony sighed, making his way over to sit on the edge of her bed. He offered her a sad smile.

_“My kid went missing, had to start somewhere.”_ He huffed a laugh, rubbing at his chest unconsciously. _“Damn near gave me a heart attack.”_

She frowned and reached over to give his free hand a sympathetic squeeze. _“I’m sorry, Tony…I tried to get her to go home-“_

_“No, don’t apologise, it’s not your fault.”_ He waved away her concerns. _“This one’s on me.”_

He wondered if he could ever get this parenting thing right. But she didn’t let him stew in his self-depreciation.

_“You know she thinks the world of you, right?”_

His uncertain gaze met her own and he couldn’t see anything but sincerity. She smiled.

_“She’d ask so many questions about you…she wanted to meet you more than anything.”_

Tony looked over to the couch. She was a good kid, one he never knew he’d even wanted, one he hardly deserved.

_“I feel like I’m constantly letting her down, y’know?”_ His jaw clenched, a tell-tale sign that he was trying to keep his emotions in check.

_“Then stop.”_

His brow furrowed. _“Stop what?”_

_“Stop letting her down.”_

He almost scoffed at how simple she made it seem. If he knew how to do that, he wouldn’t have been in this situation.

_“You can start by going to a recital…”_ She suggested, humming in amusement when he grimaced.

_“She, uh, she told you about that, huh?”_ He rubbed the back of his neck. 

The regret he’d felt the moment he’d seen those tickets on the fridge was indescribable. He’d been in D.C. despite telling her he would be there for her. The last time Peter went on a school trip he nearly got himself killed, and Tony’s worries wouldn’t allow that to happen again. He was ashamed to admit that the recital completely slipped his mind.

_“No.”_ She chucked. _“She’s just as bad a liar as you are.”_

They shared laugh.

_“Listen, I uh, I’m going to work on transferring you over to the Tower.”_ He held up a hand when she tried to protest. _“No, no way. It’s the least I could do,”_ he frowned, _“I just wish I’d known sooner.”_

All of the times that you left the Tower to ‘volunteer’ at the hospital suddenly made a lot more sense to him.

_“Please don’t blame her, I told her not to tell you.”_

She gave his hand another squeeze when his eyes dropped to the ground, knowing that he was beating himself up about it for no good reason. It was a bad habit he had yet to kick.

_“But thank you, Tony. Medicine, well, it’s not cheap…”_ She sighed. _“I had to sell the old studio, and she knew exactly what that meant. I tried to hide it from her, but she’s a smart kid.”_

She shot him a pointed look, as if to say ‘that one’s also on you’. He nodded with a grin, and she was glad to see the pride in it.

_“Then she started coming back with medication.”_ Tony’s eyes shot over to her in realisation, but her own eyes were closed as she shook her head. _“I never knew where she got them from, but thank you for putting an end to that.”_

* * *

When she finally woke up, it was to her mother’s laugh. She frowned in confusion, and thought she was seeing things when she noticed Tony sitting at her mother’s bedside. They were chatting like old friends, with a familiarity she didn’t expect them to have. She didn’t quite understand that they’d always be bound together. Even if they had nothing else in common, they still had her.

_“Mom? Dad?”_

The conversation came to an abrupt halt the moment they realised she was awake.

Tony felt his heart race. _Dad_. No one had ever called him that before, not even her. He knew she’d almost done it before, cutting herself off before she could. What he didn’t know was what stopped her every time. Was he so disappointing as a father figure that she refused to associate the word with him? Or did it just feel wrong to call a stranger dad? If he ever asked, she’d tell him the truth - that she feared he thought the exact same things of her.

They were both stupid.

But for now he could just enjoy the fact that she was too sleepy to even realise the slip.

_“Hey, sweetheart.”_ Her mother offered her usual warm smile.

Before she could ask the obvious question, a nurse bustled into the room. She must have missed something important, because they were discussing how to go about moving her mother out of the hospital. From what she gathered, Tony knew that her time was coming to an end and he wanted her as comfortable as possible when that time came.

She wanted to be grateful, but it was all just a reminder that she’d soon be alone in the world.

* * *

Her parents decided that she’d be riding with Tony on the way back to the Tower. To say that it was awkward would be an understatement. Her hurt still lingered, and he was feeling too many emotions altogether. Either way, he knew he’d hurt her, her mother had told him as much, and he’d be damned if he didn’t fix it.

_“I didn’t know…”_

Tony’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

_“She didn’t want you to.”_ Her words were gentle, like softening a blow, he thought.

_“Did you?”_ He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

She hesitated for a moment before reluctantly shaking her head.

His heart ached at the thought of her not trusting him, not believing in him. And for a moment, a painful, torturous moment, he saw himself in her shoes. Young, with the world at her feet, and a father too damn selfish to see that she didn’t need the money, or the material, or the media…she needed _him_.

_“I don’t know, I guess…I just, I figured you wouldn’t care.”_ Her lower lip wobbled, and she turned to watch the world go by outside the window.

_“What?”_ He was stunned, hardly able to believe that she thought so little of him - that he’d given her no reason to think any more of him.

_“We’re- we’re strangers. You’ve already chosen your family…”_ the tears finally spilled over, and Tony felt his own eyes prickling at the sight, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from him. _“With Pepper and, and Peter…you know them better, and-”_

His hands were quick to grasp her shoulders and turn her to face him, effectively bringing her ramble to an end.

_“Hey, stop. Look at me.”_ She did, wide and glassy eyes nearly breaking his heart all over again. _“There’s no choice. Not for me. It’s you, always…okay?”_

She sniffled lightly, swiping at her eyes with a sleeve. He didn’t waver, there was nothing but resolution in his voice and the hope that fluttered in her chest nearly brought on a fresh wave of tears.

_“Okay.”_

_“C’mere.”_ He gently tugged her forward into tight hug. _“I know you might not believe me when I say this -I’ll work on that- but…you’re my daughter, and I love ya, kid.”_

Her shoulders shook and he couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or more tears, but he hardly cared when he heard her reply.

_“I love you too, dad.”_

There was plenty for him to do, problems that wouldn’t go away and situations that he could do nothing to protect her against. But step by step, he’d make her proud. He promised it to her mother, and he promised it to himself. Now he just had to prove it to her.

* * *


	10. First Impressions (Bucky Barnes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky meets his girl’s parents for the first time.

_When you’re done swimming **please** don’t forget to take the wine out of the freezer, I love you!_ 

Those were the final instructions you had given him before you went to pick your parents up from the airport. It was the first time he would be meeting the people that had given him the incredible woman he’d been dating for the past 6 months. _No pressure._

The early morning had been spent cleaning your house - you wanted it all perfect for your parents after not seeing them for so long. You had reassured him that they were nice, friendly people and that he had nothing to worry about…and _then_ you gave him a long list of things to do that made it seem like he definitely _did_ have something to worry about.

_“It’s okay, they’ll love you! Just be yourself…well, maybe not, I mean…be yourself, just maybe dial down the sarcasm…and don’t make any sex jokes, definitely no to the sex jokes. In fact, maybe don’t even mention sex, or touching, or…beds?”_

_He snorted. “Don’t mention beds? Damn, I was really looking forward to that conversation.”_

_“See that? That was the sarcasm I was talking about.” You looked at him pointedly, but couldn’t help but chuckle when he shot you that million dollar grin._

Their flight would be landing just after midday so Bucky has spent a few hours in the pool, enjoying the warm, sunny day and getting lost in his thoughts after putting his washing out to dry. His future in-laws (and hell yeah he was certain of that fact) were from Chicago, and if they were anything like their daughter, then Bucky was looking forward to meeting them. It would be nice to finally-

 _Oh no_ …

He cringed when he heard a shout come from over the fence. If there was one thing he didn’t like about your house, it was your neighbour. Your young, single, _male_ neighbour who Bucky was convinced took any opportunity he could to interact with his girl. The only thing Bucky disliked more than him, was the annoying pug that he’d released into the backyard. The very same pug that would somehow ‘magically’ find its way into your backyard all the damn time. And if by some chance it _did_ manage to stay in its own yard, it would never stop barking.

Bucky wasn’t stupid, he knew what the neighbour was trying to do. Every time the dog ended up in your yard, he would have an excuse to look over the fence and flirt with you. Sometimes the little pest would even steal things and carry them back home too! _Ugh_. He hated them both.

_Not this time, pal._

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed in irritation when he heard the familiar yapping. _So much for relaxing before they arrive_ , he thought. With another dramatic sigh, Bucky paddled his inflatable donut to the steps of the pool, before getting out and drying off. It was nice having some time off from training and travelling with the team. 

Bucky didn’t get to see you as often as he would like, but he was working up the courage to change that. He’d been wanting to ask you to move in with him for a long time, but this was his first serious relationship and he didn’t know when it would be appropriate.

The timing felt right, it’d felt right for a while…but he didn’t want to freak you out, even if you were usually the calmest person he knew. You would say yes, he was almost 100% sure of it, but it was the ‘what if’ that made him hesitate.

But that wasn’t his concern at the moment. Instead, he took the wine out of the freezer and made his way upstairs for a shower. Usually you would stay at his place, so he didn’t keep too many of his things at your house…which was probably why he had completely forgotten to take a change of clothes with him into the bathroom. Earlier in the morning he’d washed all of the clothes he kept in his designated draw of your dresser and put them all out to dry in the warm sun.

He groaned at the thought of going back downstairs. With a towel hastily thrown around him, Bucky made his way outside and started gathering his clothes. It was all well and good…until he felt the towel being viciously ripped from around his hips. He dropped the pile of clothes with a startled yelp and quickly stomped on the edge of the towel to stop the little monster from getting away.

“Oh no you don’t!” Bucky growled.

The pug was practically foaming at the mouth as it growled right back, eyes bugging out and angry that Bucky was putting up a fight. It was no match for his strength, but the damn thing was so stubborn he could hear its paws scrapping against the large tiles in resistance. He could also hear the edges of the towel tearing, and the pug went stumbling back when it was finally ripped out of its mouth.

“Aha! Got it, you little mutt!” 

Bucky held the towel over his head in victory, that wide loveable grin on his face. The pug scampered away, and Bucky froze in his tracks when he turned and noticed the three new faces staring at him from the other side of the glass sliding door. His girlfriend’s jaw had all but hit the floor, and while that was usually the reaction he was going for when naked, the sight of the two people behind you had him quickly wrapping the towel back around his hips. He must have been 10 different shades of red when he realised that your  _parents_ , the ones he was meeting for the _very first time_ , had seen him… _all_ of him.

Bucky could have sworn that your mother’s startled gasp echoed throughout the whole neighbourhood, and then she was collapsing into the arms of the man beside her. Your dad cried out in panic, finally drawing your attention attention. You still didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that you’d just witnessed your man locked, butt-naked, in the most intense game of tug-of-war you’d seen to date.     

“Bucky…”

“Uhhh…I can explain?” He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

Steve was _never_ gonna let him live this one down.

* * *

“You know, that went a lot better than I thought it would. I think they like me.” 

Bucky smiled, looking awfully self-satisfied. You knew he was just glad that his little _show_ hadn’t condemned him in the eyes of your parents. They were actually very cool people, he found out - that must have been where you got it from. They had even joked about the whole situation all night long.

“Yeah? I’d like you too if you showed up on my doorstep naked when we first met.” You joked, settling into bed beside him.

“Hey, you said not to mention sex, or touching, or beds…and I _didn’t_.” He smirked and pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry that ‘don’t play naked tug-of-war with the neighbour’s pug’ wasn’t on the list, I’ll be sure to add it next time.” You laughed sweetly and pressed a kiss to his bare chest. 

“At least you gave Lawrence a good show…” You nodded your head in the direction of your neighbour’s house even though neither of you could see it. 

“He’s been asking me to set him up with a sexy superhero for months.” You raised your brows pointedly.

Bucky eyes widened.

“Wha-? You mean he’s…?”

You laughed at his bewildered expression. “Of course! Why else would he always send his dog over here? You know he named that thing ‘Barky’ to match your name, right?”

Bucky snorted, unable to hold back a laugh.

“And _that_ is one of the many reasons you should move in with me.” He held his breath for a moment, not knowing where that came from. He hadn’t even thought about it since morning, but it was out there now.

“Oh I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” There was a teasing tone to your words that made him silently sigh in relief. You propped yourself up on his chest to look up at him. 

“My mom is already convinced that ‘that well-endowed boy’” he snorted, “will have me pregnant by the summer.” You added in a scandalous whisper. 

“She did _not_ say that.” He laughed in astonishment.

“You have no idea…don’t worry, I told her you wouldn’t know how to use that thing even if you tried- _ah!_ ” Bucky quickly flipped you over, admiring the stunning smile he was graced with and cutting your laugh short with a kiss.

“ _Liar_.” He whispered against your lips. “But if you need a little convincing, I’m all for a demonstration…” He cocked a brow, never one to back down from a challenge. You smiled.

“Mhm…consider it a reward for helping me pack tomorrow.”


	11. From The Start (Bucky Barnes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: ‘Hi! I looove your stories! Can I request a Buckyxreader os where she’s Steve’s gf but Bucky loves her and then they break up and he helps her get over Steve? Maybe later they get married and you can include dad!bucky?? idk…if you don’t want to do it that’s okay! Thnx :)))’
> 
> Thanks for the request and I hope it’s okay! I feel like it might be a little rushed, because I tried to include the whole request, so there might be a few time jumps! If you look closely, you’ll notice my inability to make Steve anything other than The Good Guy. Thanks for reading folks :)

Just seeing her was enough to put a smile on his face.

That shouldn’t have been the case, definitely not, especially considering who he was and who she was to him. The feelings he had for her, the ones he’d always had for her since the moment he met her, they were toxic. The places his mind would travel, the loving and -admittedly- sinful thoughts that it stumbled upon in those travels…they were dangerous thoughts to be having.

But that didn’t stop him from having them. Nothing could. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say he tried to move on, he knew he didn’t. He wasn’t the type to go out and find a pretty distraction in a tight dress, he knew how he felt and he knew that nothing was going to change that. If anything, it would make him feel even worse.

Every time he saw her, he felt _alive_.

Every time he spoke to her, he knew only she would be able to make him feel such things.

There was no one else like her, not in his eyes.  

She was beautiful and funny, and kind, and he could go on and on about the long list of things he loved about her, but at the end of the day it would get him nowhere.

Why?

Because she wasn’t his to love. She was only his best friend.

And the fact that her boyfriend was his closest friend made him sick to his stomach. What would Steve say if he found out just what went through Bucky’s mind whenever he saw his girl? Steve knew that the two had become best friends in the time that they had known each other, but that only made Bucky feel even worse.

Steve trusted him. He trusted him with his life and his girl, and Bucky’s mind betrayed that trust every single day. Whether it was a sweet daydream in the middle of a workout, or his darkest fantasy when he was alone at night, he shouldn’t have been thinking about her like that.

He had tried to dissuade himself… _how would you feel if the roles were reversed?_

But did asking himself that really make a difference? Of course not, because in the safety of his mind he could have her to himself. He was allowed to be internally selfish if he was externally selfless, at least that’s what he always told himself. It wasn’t like he would ever act on his feelings, and he definitely knew that she wouldn’t accept them anyway.

_Y/N…_

She loved Steve, and no matter how much it pained Bucky to admit it, they were great together. So great that he had to look away from them whenever they so much as smiled at each other. So great that it hurt him to think about just when Steve would be taking that next step.

Was he a terrible person for hoping the answer was ‘never’?

But he knew that realistically it was probably soon. His friend had been acting strange lately, nothing too serious, but when Bucky asked him what was on his mind, Steve had told him that he had a big decision to make and that he was hoping it’d all be for the better.

If that didn’t mean marriage then Bucky didn’t know what did.

And it hurt. It hurt to even consider the fact that he would never have her…that she would be Steve’s in every sense of the word. Bucky loved her, and there was nothing that could be done to change that. So how would he be able to sit there, with a smile on his face, and watch her start the rest of her life with another man? With his best friend?

It would be cruel to ask him to do so.

Fortunately for him, he would soon come to realise just how wrong his assumption was…

“Y/N?” Bucky frowned in concern.

He’d heard the news, and despite the fact that he was a little hurt that Steve hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him in person, he knew she was hurting a lot more than he was.

A few of her friends had already been over to see her, but she hadn’t answered the door once, no matter how much they all begged her to. He had only just returned from a mission, where Steve had finally confirmed what no one had expected.

He was leaving the city and moving upstate to the Facility. It was even worse when Bucky realised that Steve…well, he didn’t _want_ Bucky to go with him. It was almost like he was desperate to get away for a while.

Bucky’s heart had shattered as soon as he heard the news, and he hated that familiar feeling of helplessness that he’d grown accustomed to in his life.

It was bad enough that his best friend didn’t want to be around him, but if Steve was leaving, then so was she…and he didn’t know how to deal with that. Bucky believed that Steve was somewhat hesitant to leave, knowing that the city would always be his home, and that he would have to leave his friends behind. But he’d mistaken Steve’s sadness for something it wasn’t. He wasn’t sad about leaving, it was only a few hours away after all…he was sad because of _how_ he was leaving.

Bucky knew that he shouldn’t have been so relieved to hear it, but he was.

_“So, it’s true then…you’re heading upstate?”_

_“Uh, yeah.” Steve’s brows furrowed, a frown marring his tired features. Recent weeks had taken their toll, physically and emotionally. The guilt of avoiding Bucky was eating him up, but he couldn’t bear it…seeing it all play out before his eyes._

_“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”_

_“Ah don’t worry about it.” Bucky waved off his friend’s obvious concern with a forced smile. “I’m surprised Y/N didn’t tell me though.”_

_Steve almost flinched at her name._

_Bucky could barely get the words past his lips. Why hadn’t she told him? They told each other everything and this wasn’t just some vacation that Steve had booked for them, she was leaving the city!_

_Steve cleared his throat uncomfortably, eyes dropping to the floor as a sudden sadness flooded them. “Th-That’s because she didn’t know…”_

_After everything he’d been through, Steve knew that if anyone deserved happiness it was Bucky. He knew when he was beat, and it was only a matter of time until someone got hurt at the rate they were all going. He couldn’t stay, not when he could see his best friend’s heart break a little more each day. Not when he was questioning the nature of his own relationship every time he saw them together._

Bucky should not have been happy to hear that his friend had broken up with his girl to move to away for a fresh start…he shouldn’t have been so relieved, especially knowing that the woman he loved was probably a broken-hearted mess after the man _she_ loved told her he didn’t want to continue their relationship.

He could tell it hurt Steve to talk about, he loved her more than anything…at least that’s what Bucky had thought. He couldn’t even imagine leaving her behind if he was in Steve’s shoes. There wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do in order to convince her to join him if he ever left. Steve had always looked so happy with her, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what on earth was more important to him than his girl.

It didn’t matter, what did matter was the fact that for whatever strange reason, their relationship was over.

And as any true friend would, Bucky had gone straight to her apartment after a debriefing to see if she was okay. He knew she wasn’t, but after calling all of her closest friends (who didn’t seem too happy with him simply because of his association with Steve) and finding out that she hadn’t answered any of them, Bucky was worried. So he took the spare key she’d given him, in case of emergency, and made his way over.

He wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t answered the door, and for a moment he even hesitated. What if she screamed at him for letting himself in when she so obviously wanted to be alone? Despite his worries, he knew that his concern for her outweighed them, so he let himself in and approached the closed bedroom door.

His light knock was ignored and he eased the door open gently, just in case she was asleep. She wasn’t asleep, he could tell by the periodic sniffles coming from her curled up form.

“Y/N?”

She remained unresponsive, but that didn’t deter him. At least she wasn’t yelling, that was something positive at least. His mind told him not to do it, but he moved forward anyway, laying down behind her. Hesitantly, he reached out to gently pull her elbow back. Despite tensing at first, she let him turn her around, puffy eyes avoiding his gaze as she was finally revealed to him.

She knew she must have looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her face was damp, and her nose was sore from all of the constant wiping. It broke his heart to see her in such a state, and when she finally met his sympathetic gaze her face crumpled once more. Bucky was quick to pull her into his arms, stroking her head with one hand, while the other rubbed soothing circles into her back.

For a few minutes they stayed that way, with Bucky telling her she would be okay, and that he was sorry (despite not having anything to be sorry for). He was glad to finally see the tears stop falling for a moment.  

“Did you know?” Her voice was thick and hoarse, and it hurt him to hear her so dejected.

“No. I would have told you…I think that’s why he didn’t tell me.” Her face burrowed further into the crook of his neck.

“I just don’t understand.”

She sniffled loudly and he tightened his grip around her.

“Neither do I…”

And he really didn’t. Who in their right mind would have left a girl like her?

Not Bucky, that was for sure.

* * *

Despite those long nights where she would lay on her couch watching crappy shows and wallowing in self pity, life went on. She wouldn’t lie and say that she was over her ex. Steve was the one she thought she’d be with forever. They had spoken of a future together, marriage, kids, all of it. So what had changed?

She still didn’t know. Perhaps that’s why she could never completely get him off of her mind. It was the fact that she didn’t have that closure, the fact that she had no idea why he had broken up with her. Did it really matter? Not really. She shouldn’t have been wasting her time thinking about it. It was done, and no matter how much she questioned the reasoning behind it, it wouldn’t change a thing. Steve would still be gone, and she would still be single.

But she wasn’t alone, and that was the main thing. Her friends had really been the support she needed, and Bucky in particular had done everything to help her through it all. The girls had been wary of him at first, knowing that he was Steve’s friend, but they had accepted him quickly when they seemed to pick up on certain feelings that she herself had missed. Yes, they all knew. They could see it in the way he did anything and everything for her…the man was in love.

But she didn’t know that just yet, and they hoped that once all of the Steve business was behind her, she’d settle down with someone like Bucky, who’d treat her right.

For now, they were just friends. But time kept flying by and he was unknowingly pushing those boundaries and blurring any lines that may have been between them, more and more often…

Like right now.

“Hey, do you have a spare shirt I could borrow? I dropped spaghetti on mine.”

She looked up from her phone and froze. If he noticed her wide eyes rake up and down his bare torso, he made no mention of it. But she was certain that he was too busy scowling at the stained shirt to realise that she had, for the first time in their friendship, unashamedly checked him out. It was weird. Was it weird? He was a good looking guy, everyone knew that! Why would it be weird? It would only be weird if she made it weird.

_It’s not weird. It’s not. Oh my god, stop staring at him!_

“-Y/N? Y/N!”

She finally tore her eyes away and cleared her throat quietly, finding it oddly dry. He looked more concerned when she met his gaze than anything else.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?” Bucky frowned at her odd behaviour, resting a hand on her shoulder as he moved to sit beside her on the couch. She inhaled sharply at the proximity and shot up from the couch so fast that he visibly flinched.

“Yes!” She answered quickly, wincing at how unnecessarily loud her voice was. “I’m- I’m good. Great even.” She forced a strained laugh.

“Shirt, right? Yes. Okay, I have- I’ll go get it. A shirt…for you.” _Good lord._

It wasn’t like she had no idea that Bucky was attractive before. But now…wait a minute, did she find _him_ attractive now? He was her best friend! There was no way that was it, he had never been attractive to her. She had never been attracted to him in that way, it wasn’t something you thought of your best friend, and definitely not when that best friend was also best buddies with your ex.

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind with an irritated sigh as she riffled through her wardrobe.

Bucky didn’t know what to think of the strange display he’d just witnessed. She wasn’t down very often anymore, sometimes he could tell if it crossed her mind, but she wasn’t sad. She was just…well, weird. All he had done was ask for a shirt, but it seemed to bother her. _Oh_ , what if she only had Steve’s old clothes left over and he had unintentionally reminded her of it all?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

He cursed under his breath at the thought. Despite a few bumps in the road, she was on her way to getting over the Steve. It was slow, and he knew she still missed the companionship, but she was happier in recent weeks. Her old relationship was no longer the priority in her mind, and Bucky hoped that it soon wouldn’t bring her any pain at all. He was aware that her friends wanted the same for her, but while they wanted him to take Steve’s place, Bucky knew that it was impossible.

She would never see him that way.

At first he’d felt guilty for considering confessing his feelings to her, but knowing that Steve was moving on with Sharon had alleviated some of that tension. In fact, Steve would always ask how she was holding up whenever he called. There was no curiosity or jealousy at the thought of her moving on, only concern for her wellbeing. Steve was a good guy, the best even, and he’d said it himself…if he could move on, then so could she. He’d only be happy so long as she was happy.

“Here you go.” She smiled as she held out a familiar shirt, and he shot her a small smirk in return.

“You have my shirt?” He cocked a dark brow, a warm feeling settling in his chest at the thought of her wearing it. It was an older one and obviously well-worn, but he hadn’t even realised that it had gone missing. Was this her only one? Did she sleep in it? Okay, that last one was wishful thinking, he seriously doubted that Steve would have ever been happy to see his girl sleeping in another man’s shirt, no matter how close they were.

“Of course, you’re my best friend, I had to steal one of them.” She grinned brightly, missing the way his own smile weakened at the label. She didn’t mention that it was her favourite item of clothing though. But she did suddenly question _why_ it was her favourite. It wasn’t the most comfortable, it wasn’t even the most practical…but it was his.

She was almost uneasy at the thought, something that felt an awful lot like guilt settling in her stomach. Steve had never cared when she wore Bucky’s shirt before, it hadn’t meant anything and he knew it, but now…now she was questioning if it did mean something. It was easy to say ‘no’, to tell herself that she was being silly and that she had latched onto the closest male after her break-up. But she wasn’t entirely sure that was the case.

But there was only one way to make sure she wasn’t:

a) Using her best friend as a potential rebound

b) Losing her damn mind

and…

c) Genuinely attracted to Bucky

* * *

“So, what did you need?” Bucky asked from the couch as she raided her wardrobe in the next room over.

She didn’t answer, but stepped in front of the TV screen to steal his attention before he could repeat his question.

“I need your advice. Peach or red?” She asked, holding up a dress in each hand. Bucky assessed each with a quick scan. In his eyes she could wear a garbage bag and still look beautiful.

“Hm, the peach one. What’s this for?” His brows furrowed, that cute little crease in between them that she- _oh boy_.

 _That_ was what this was for. She needed to get her damn mind off of Bucky, and he needed to get his mind off of her. Especially considering how comfortable they had become recently. Ever since -what she called- the ‘Shirt Revelation’, a month ago, she’d told herself that she would be careful around Bucky. But that seemed to go out the window every time he came over. Which was always.

He would stay over often, and more than once they had awkwardly woken up snuggling on the couch. It had done nothing to calm her thoughts about him, and it worried her that maybe her clinginess was rubbing off on him. She was certain that there had never been romantic feelings on his end before, but now it was becoming a little obvious that _that_ may have no longer been the case. 

Was she doing this to him? Was she making him think he had feelings for her because she had become so attached to him?  

She concluded that yes, she was. And as a result, she decided to do them both a favour and give herself the rebound she was certain she needed, while simultaneously giving him the space he needed to shake whatever she’d done to him out of his system.

She knew Bucky better than anyone, and he knew her just as well. She would never ruin what they had because of some stupid feelings that she shouldn’t have had. What would Steve think of this? She hadn’t even considered that. God, she was surprised Bucky even gave her the time of day. What kind of person jumped onto her ex’s best friend?

“Oh, um…I have a date tonight.”

Bucky froze completely, his chest seizing as her words sunk in.

“A…date?” She heard the strain in his voice, and realised that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t like the sound of it.

“Yeah.” She had whispered it so quietly that he could barely hear the sadness lacing the single word. It was for his own good, she reminded herself. But that little voice at the back of her head still couldn’t help but ask ‘why?’.

“Oh. With who?” Bucky tried his hardest to sound nonchalant, but he knew it wasn’t working as well as he would have hoped.

He had been under the impression that they were slowly moving forward in their relationship, and he had never been happier in his life than in those moment where he could see his feelings reflected in her own eyes. Steve knew, he’d apparently known for a long time, but Bucky couldn’t keep it from him any longer. It wouldn’t be fair and he deserved to know in case things did go any further. Much to Bucky’s surprise, his string of apologies was met with a chuckle, and approval he had not anticipated.

But the idea of her feeling even remotely the same way…it was too good to be true. And apparently it _wasn’t_ true.

“Just some guy from work.”

Lucas was actually a sweetheart, and he had made his interest known when he joined her company recently. At first she’d told him she needed some time to think about it, and knowing about her recent break-up, he had been more than happy to give her the time she needed. It was only once her feelings for Steve seemed like yesterday’s problem, that she decided to take Lucas up on his offer of dinner. She loved Bucky, but only as a friend. She couldn’t let it get further than that.

“Is he…nice?”

“Yeah, I mean, he seems sweet.” She bobbed her head awkwardly.

“Good. That’s…that’s really good. I’m sure he’s a good guy.”

_Yeah, but he’s not you…_

Bucky swallowed dryly, forcing the words out somehow. He hated this whole situation, but he’d kept his silence for years where his feelings for her were involved, and now that he was certain she knew about them, it seemed like this was her response. She wasn’t interested.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Her words were just as forced.

“When will you be back?”

“I’m not sure.”

His heart stopped as dread settled in his stomach.

“You- you are coming back, right?”

“Yes, of course!” Her eyes widened when she realised why he was asking. _That_ definitely wasn’t her thing.

Bucky nodded, only slightly relieved by her words. If he had it his way, she wouldn’t be going anywhere at all.

“Right…well, I’ll be here if you need me.”

* * *

Dinner with Lucas was perfect.

He was a complete gentleman. Honest, funny, charming and easy on the eyes…she really couldn’t have asked for much more in a potential partner.

So why was her mind on another man? She was distracted, even Lucas had noticed it, if the assessing look on his face was anything to go by. She couldn’t help it, how was she supposed to focus when the heartbroken look on Bucky’s face was burned into her mind as soon as she stepped out of her door?

“You don’t really want to be here, do you?” Despite his blunt words, Lucas smiled in amusement.

“What? No, of course I do! You’re a great guy-“ she argued, only to be cut off by a soft chuckle.

“But not the one on your mind right now.” Lucas shot her a knowing smile and her face dropped at the truth in his words.

“I-I…” She sighed. How could she respond to that? They both knew anything but an affirmative response was a lie, but Lucas didn’t deserve a flaky date.

“Listen, Y/N…I knew from the moment I met you that there was someone else, I just figured that you were trying to move past it. But maybe I was wrong about that…”

“Yeah. Look, I’m really sorry about this.” She rubbed at her temples anxiously, but he just gave her a forgiving smile.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I uh, I know what it’s like.” Lucas waved away her concerns. “But I mean…why are you here with me, if you want to be with someone else?”

“Honestly?” He nodded once, curious to hear her answer. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Lucas frowned.

“He’s kinda…my ex’s best friend.” She decided that it sounded so much worse out loud. She couldn’t imagine what Lucas thought of her now. Wasn’t it against bro-code to date a friend’s ex?

“Oh.” He winced at the thought.

“Yeah, _oh_.” She forced a chuckle.

“Is your ex the type to hold a grudge?”

She almost snorted. Steve was more likely to congratulate her than ever hold a grudge, but that didn’t stop her from feeling guilty. Because what if he actually _did_ care? It wasn’t a good idea to think of the ‘what ifs’ but she still cared about Steve, despite the way it had all ended. She wasn’t in love with him anymore, but he’d always hold a place in her heart, and she didn’t want to hurt him by dating his best friend.

“Not really, no. He doesn’t even live in the city anymore.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Lucas shrugged as if it were the easiest choice in the world. It was for him. If he left his girl and she decided to move on with someone else, he had no say in the matter. Even if it was his friend. Who was he to stand in the way of two people who loved each other?  

She stared at him for a long moment, and he shot her an encouraging smile.

“Well, go on! Let me know how it goes on Monday.”

“You’re the best, Lucas…really, you’re amazing.” She stated earnestly.

He shrugged half-heartedly, and she was quick to press a kiss to his cheek before finally heading to where she was always supposed to be.

* * *

“Y/N?”

Bucky frowned in confusion when he heard the front door swing open. It had only been 40 minutes. There was no way she could have already been home.

“Hey…” She replied in a breathy tone, eyes locked on him as if she were seeing something she had never seen before.

“I thought you were on your date.” He looked confused, but there was a hint of relief on his face.

“Yeah, it didn’t really work out.” She smiled sheepishly, but his face hardened.

“Did he try something?”

“Wha- Oh! No! He was great. Fine. Perfect really, he didn’t do anything.” She reassured him.

Bucky knew it was a tinge of jealousy that he felt. _Great, fine, perfect_ …he probably would have felt better if the guy had done at least something wrong, but he was quick to mentally scold himself for thinking such a thing. He’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her in any way.  

“Then- then why are you here. If he’s perfect.” He chewed his bottom lip, a strange feeling of anticipation filling him. This was it, there was no other explanation for it. Just seeing the look in her eyes was proof enough.

“You know why. Because…he’s not perfect for _me_.” She sighed, deciding to ignore his jealousy and just go for it. No more beating around the bush. “Bucky, I-“

“I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you.” He blurted out. He looked so calm that she thought he must have really not cared anymore. He didn’t care if she knew, he just had to get it out, and in that moment she realised that she didn’t care either.

“I can’t stop thinking about you and I’m scared because the last person I cared about this much left me and I still don’t know why.”

Bucky could feel his heart racing, and for a moment he thought he’d been daydreaming again. But no, she was there and this was happening. He knew it was real the moment she took his hands into her own and their gazes met.

“Buck, I loved Steve. He was a great boyfriend at the time, but that’s all he was. You are my best friend, and if I lose you, I don’t just lose another man I love. I lose everything.”

He removed his hands from her own, cupping her face and gently tilting her head up to look at him. There was so much warmth and love in the smile he sent her that she didn’t deny his words for a second.

“I promise you, doll…you will never lose me.”  

* * *

She was crying again.

He tried his hardest to make her happy, holding her close and pressing a loving kiss to her head, telling her that everything would be okay…

Nothing seemed to work and he just didn’t know why. Maybe he wasn’t the best person to be in this position, maybe he had underestimated just how hard it would be.

But god was it worth it.

Parenthood was not for everyone, but having his 4 month old daughter in his arms even if she was wailing at 3 in the morning, was a blessing. Y/N was preparing a bottle, leaving Bucky to try and calm their daughter, something he had never been too good at. When she was happy, their little girl would squeal joyfully at the very sight of him, especially when he finally got home after a mission. There was no doubt that she was her father’s daughter. But when she was upset, it was only her mother who could calm her.

Which was exactly why Bucky sighed in relief as soon as his fiancé walked through the door. As if sensing her mother’s presence, his daughter’s cries died down to small whimpers and she held her small arms out as soon as she noticed Y/N’s smiling face.

Bucky smiled softly as he handed their daughter over, knowing he never really could look away from Y/N when she entered a room, especially when she held their little girl so tenderly. He was so in love with her, so in love with their little family, that he still couldn’t believe it had all worked out like this.

Nothing in the world was more valuable to him than his girls.

* * *

**_A/N: Unrelated question but please let me know your thoughts - is anyone interested in a Yon-Rogg OS? I don’t know why but I have one stuck in my head._ **


	12. What Is Owed (Steve Rogers)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A damsel in distress…just not the one you’d expect. Steve/Anti-hero!reader
> 
> Okay! So this is pretty short because I was thinking about writing more of these for different points in time when reader and Steve run into each other. That’ll make sense after reading. But please let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in! I’m not too happy with this part because I cut it down a lot for the next part, so it doesn’t feel complete to me. But hopefully you enjoy it! 
> 
> Working on my requests, sorry for the delay :(

On days like these you couldn’t help but think that they didn’t pay you enough to do your job.

Lately, you’d been forced to deal with a group of hired guns so moronic that you honestly wondered why your employer even bothered with them in the first place. This was well below your pay-grade, but you also knew that after a number of failed attempts at locating a certain serum your boss wanted, a simple slap on the wrists wasn’t going to cut it. They either got the job done, or they wouldn’t get the chance to try again - you’d make sure of that.

So here you were, all mean-faced and pissed off, strolling through the old abandoned warehouse ( _typical_ , you inwardly scoffed) to meet the leader of this little group. The sound of echoing footsteps alerted the guards and you were greeted with the barrel of a gun as you rounded a corner.

There were four of them, sweating bullets and clearly on edge. The leader was the scrawniest, and clearly the ’smart one’. He was quick to pull his comrade’s gun down to face the ground, hissing something in his ear before offering you his best smile - which turned out to be far shakier than you would have guessed for a mercenary. It did wonders for your ego.  

“Agent Nyx…the serum, as requested.” He wasn’t wasting any time and clicked his fingers at one of his men. He was quick to present a suitcase. They seemed to want to be there just as much as you did, so you were grateful for the efficiency this time ‘round.  

The leader watched on anxiously as you flicked the latches and eased the suitcase open. Your expression gave nothing away, and he found himself fidgeting when your impassive stare turned to him. He could feel the sweat building across the back of his neck.

“I-I also have another gift for you…” after a beat of silence and mounting anxiety, he cleared his throat.

“It’s an apology really, for our previous failures.” He quickly added, eager to finally have your gaze directed elsewhere.

“Well?” You cocked a brow. “Show me.”

He jumped as if he’d been shocked, quickly shuffling over to what looked like a storage room and shooting glances back over his shoulder to check that you were in fact following. He unbolted the door with a loud clang, and eased it open. You didn’t miss the way his eyes darted around the room. _Paranoid, or cautious?_

The sound of dripping water echoed throughout the tiny room, and the only source of light was a dim lightbulb, swaying from the ceiling and drawing attention to the only noteworthy thing in the room.

_Definitely cautious._

If you focused, you could hear ragged pants entwined with the steady _drip-drop_ of water. _No, not water_ …your eyes zeroed in on the IV. You almost did a double-take at the sight of the man sat chained to the chair before you. You could feel the mercenary’s eyes on you, waiting for a reaction and hoping it was one of approval.

You hid your surprise and discomfort well.

“Captain America…” you murmured, slowly approaching his weakened form. It was an incredibly rare sight, and served to remind you that even he wasn’t invincible.

His pale eyes, glazed and drooping, were doing their best to stay open against the effects of whatever they had pumping through the IV lodged in his arm. You could see the recognition flutter over his handsome features for a split second, a slight widening of his eyes, a shift in his posture - little things only you could notice.

“N-Nngh…” he tried, your name on the tip of his lax tongue. Well, the only name he knew you by.

“Sh, shh…” you hushed him, and for some reason, he obeyed.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you shot your contact a practiced smile.

“You’ve outdone yourself.”

He practically preened at the praise. His men had failed your employer one too many times to go unpunished, but he’d hoped that this would be enough to pardon their short-comings. His shoulder’s slumped in relief when you confirmed that it was.

“You and your men are free to go.”

He didn’t wait around, spluttering a few words of thanks and farewell that you completely ignored, before all but launching himself out of the room. You didn’t care, it was better for you this way.

A soft groan captured you attention.  

You tilted his his chin up with your thumb and forefinger to get a better look at him, and watched as his head lolled back pathetically against the chair.

He groaned again. It seemed like it was the only thing he could do.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?”

His eyes managed to pry themselves open at the sound of your voice, and you sighed. You had a decision to make, and though you knew you really shouldn’t, you did anyway. The IV was eased out of his arm and he huffed quietly. You assumed it was a sound of gratitude, but judging by the grimace on his face, it may have been discomfort instead.

“Gi…ngh…gim-gimme a min…”

“Oh? To do what exactly?” You cocked a brow sarcastically.

Steve levelled you with the best glare he could muster. You rolled your eyes and moved over to help him stand. It was a tall ask, you both knew that, and Steve swayed precariously until you forced his arm around your shoulders and allowed him to rest his weight on you. You grunted at the effort it took to hold his hulking frame up, but tightened your hold when he tried to pull away out of guilt.

_Always gotta be a goddamn hero…_

“Stop it,” you snapped when the stubborn ass tried it again, “we need to get to the car, and you’re not exactly up to the task alone, are you?”

He heaved a deep breath but didn’t waste any energy on a reply. The sound alone was enough to communicate his irritation, exhaustion, and his defeat where your argument was involved. Instead, he let you drag him to your car. Exhaustion hit the moment he slumped into the back seat, and the soft rocking of the vehicle lulled him to sleep.

* * *

When Steve woke up it was to unfamiliar surroundings. The time was a mystery to him, but it was dark out. The room wasn’t particularly big, just big enough to fit the bed he was on, a small desk, and a dresser. The walls looked like they were made out of wooden planks, and as he sat up in his bed, he could see the silhouette of trees against pale moonlight through his window.

A floorboard creaked from somewhere outside his room, and he was alert once more. A hundred questions raced through his mind, but they were quick to disperse when his memories finally caught up to him. He remembered seeing your face, or perhaps that was just another one of his many dreams, maybe even a hallucination, he couldn’t tell. But his gut told him that he was safe, for some strange reason, he knew it was you - even if he had no idea how you managed to drag him inside alone.

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been out for, or kept incapacitated by those goons, but even if it had only been a day, Bucky and Sam were likely losing their minds by now.

They wouldn’t find him here for a long while, he knew that. You were too good at your job, and no matter how much Sam didn’t like you, if you wanted to hurt him you wouldn’t have been there busting his ass out of trouble…again.

He didn’t know how it started, this sense of trust. You weren’t friends, you _should_ have been enemies, but Steve trusted his gut. He always had, and he always would. His gut told him that you were a good person in a bad situation, and maybe that’s why he found himself gravitating to you. It hardly mattered anymore. Even if you didn’t feel the same trust in him, he’d remind you every chance he got that there was more to you than you let on, and that you could have a friend in him if you ever wanted one.

Another creak tore him from his thoughts and he eased himself out of bed, leaning against the small desk as his word tipped from side to side. He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep, steadying breath. _Better…kinda_.

Slowly, he made his way out of the room and down the dark hallway, towards the only light in the cabin. His head was swimming again, and he opted for leaning against the back wall instead of trying to make it over to you.  

Your back was facing him as you emptied the suitcase’s contents into a duffle bag. He had half a mind to argue against you taking whatever it was your boss asked you to retrieve, but he was in no shape to deal with the situation if you put up a fight. There was also the fact that you’d gone out of your way to likely save his life, and it didn’t sit well with him, the thought of wronging you after that.

_Just leave it for now, we’ll get Tony on it later…_

Steve doubted that you hadn’t already sensed his presence, but still you refused to acknowledge him first. _Stubborn little thing,_ he mused.

“Leaving already?”

You didn’t even flinch at the sound of his rough voice, confirming his suspicions. He was patient as you zipped the duffle, and bustled about the room to grab the last of your weapons. It must have been a safe house you were quite familiar with, and he felt a strange warmth seep into his chest at the thought of you trusting him enough to bring him there.

“Wasn’t meant to take this long to begin with.”

To anyone else, you would have sounded abrasive, but Steve knew better. He also knew that he’d unintentionally made your life that much more difficult.

“Thank you, by the way…I uh, I owe you one.” _Or three,_ he mentally added.

Steve cleared his throat, a faint blush finding its way to his cheeks. It wasn’t unusual for him to go home with a few bumps and bruises after a mission, but being completely immobilised was embarrassing. Especially in front of someone who would likely have never found themselves in that situation in the first place. Someone whose opinion he (against all logical reasoning) cared about.

“Yeah, well,” you sighed, sliding your gun back into its holster, “don’t get used to it.”

“You say that,” he huffed, a small smile tugging at his lips, “but this is the third time you’ve had a clear shot.”

“And?” You cocked a brow and finally looked over at him.

Your eyes had a mind of their own as they assessed him and offered a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. It was certainly one you’d been trying to tell yourself you didn’t _want_. He looked a lot better, the serum was probably to thank for the speedy recovery, but you just wanted to make sure he wasn’t about to collapse on his feet. _That’s_ why your eyes took their time tracing the outline of the arms crossed over his broad chest.

You tore your gaze away and tried to focus on the task at hand.  

“And I’m starting to wonder why you haven’t taken it.” He said softly.

So softly that it made you falter for a split second.

“Did you ever consider that maybe you’re just not that high on my list of priorities?”

His brows shot up and he uncrossed his arms, looking every bit the skeptic you knew him to be.

“Is that right?” He asked, doubt heavy in his tone. “Captain America is low on HYDRA’s list of priorities?”

“Don’t get cocky now, Steven.” You shot him an unimpressed glance. “Or else I’ll think Stark is finally rubbing off on you.”

He smiled at that.

“Alright, well, if it’s not that…” he pushed off the wall, and slowly made his way over.

You pointedly ignored the large shadow that settled over you - something he noted. A gentle hand wrapped around you elbow, halting your movements and demanding your attention. You heaved a loud sigh but gave him the eye contact you knew he wanted. There was a look in those clear blue eyes that made you squirm, but you refused to be the one to look away.

“Maybe…maybe there’s just more good in you than you say there is.”

You scoffed, and with a roll of your eyes you slipped your final knife back in its sheath - perhaps a little too forcefully.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Cap. I go where they send me, like you.” You pointed out with a tight smile, before throwing the duffle bag over your shoulder and turning to look him in the eye once more. “One day that might just lead me to you…and when I finally take that shot, I won’t miss.”

His smile fell, but despite your words, Steve could see the cracks in your armour. He wasn’t the only one that didn’t know what this was - this back and forth that you had every time you ran into each other (which was far more often that you’d think). But what he _did_ know was that somewhere within the time you’d known each other, you managed to scrawl your name on the list of people he cared about. Now, that list was quite short and he doubted that you knew just how highly he thought of you, but if it ever came to it, he’d do whatever he could to keep you safe. All you had to do was ask…which he knew was highly unlikely in the first place.

Steve wasn’t a gambling man, but he’d wager that your words were nothing more than an empty threat. Because somewhere along the line he’d etched his own name on _your_ list, and despite the hold that HYDRA had on you, you’d done nothing but go out of your own way to keep him safe on multiple occasions.

So, he ignored the small voice inside his head that told him to grasp the hand that lightly brushed his own as you walked by him, and he silently watched as you shot him one last glance before stepping out of the cabin. He’d argued with you before, telling you that you were better than this, better than HYDRA. The first time it happened, you’d shot him down instantly, but the more he tried, the clearer the cracks became.

You didn’t want this, he knew you didn’t. But it was all you knew, and there was a safety to be felt in familiarity. It would take time, he couldn’t force you.

He shook his head with a sigh and looked over the room for any trace of a phone or laptop in order to contact his friends. The only thing he found was a folded post-it note on a small coffee table. Steve frowned as he hobbled over, but it melted away into a soft smile after reading and re-reading the note.

_Kraków, that’s all you’re getting.  
At least give **me** a 24-hour head start…and stop getting into trouble. _

He may have failed his mission that day, but it wasn’t the only one he had. If it was the last thing he did, he’d see you out of HYDRA, that much he could promise himself.  


	13. Throwback - Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 5.2k  
> Warnings: Bullying (not much though, and nothing violent)  
> Summary: Request ‘Heyyy. Can you please do a Bucky(or Steve) x reader imagine where they meet again at a college reunion and since reader was always really quiet and bullied, she never though anyone from her class would like her but turns out, there was someone. You can change it up. Thank you :)’

Bucky hated this.

_What the hell does anyone wear to a stupid reunion anyway?_ He huffed at his reflection, moodily tugging at the knot of his tie.

There was a mountain of clothes strewn across his bed, coat hangers littering the floor, and he still had no idea what to wear. It was his high school reunion and he’d be seeing all of his old classmates and friends in a little over an hour. After fifteen years, you’d think that Bucky couldn’t care less what these people thought of him. 

And you’d be right, but there was one person that kept his heart hammering away like a woodpecker.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous about _anything_.”

Bucky glowered at his best friend through the mirror. Steve had been hovering for the past 15 minutes, impatiently waiting for him to finish preparing.

“Yeah, well, I want to make a good first impression.”

“They already know you,” Steve pointed out.

“ _No_ ,” Bucky drew the word out like he was speaking to a 5-year-old, “they _knew_ me. A lot’s changed, I’m…I know better.”

There was a sorrow in his words that triggered every sympathetic bone in Steve’s body. Bucky held onto his guilt for a long time.

But guilt wasn’t the only thing he felt where you were involved, and though he’d gone to great lengths to try and move on and meet other people, he’d always been convinced that you were the girl for him. Even if he’d never had the confidence to approach you about it.

_‘I just know, Steve. You were convinced that Peg was ‘the one’ since pre-K, but you didn’t speak to her until college.’_ That was his usual defence, and Steve didn’t really have a leg to stand on there. He married Peggy after years of thinking she was way out of his league.

But that was different. They stayed in the same town, went to the same college, and were friends long before any feelings were confessed. You left the moment you graduated, accepted into Stanford with a full-ride scholarship, and making a name for yourself as one of the best up-and-coming lawyers in the States. Steve didn’t deny that he was damn proud that you’d been able to show the world just what you could do, but he also knew that you’d left high school in your rearview long ago.

“Buck,” Steve began, his tone hesitant, “we don’t even know if she’ll be there tonight.”

“And I’m supposed to just leave this to chance?” His eyes widened, offended by the mere thought.

Steve sighed.

“Well, no, but I just think…” he tried to find the right words.

“What?”

“It’s been 15 years, pal, what are the chances she isn’t already seeing someone? Or married for that matter?” Steve gently pointed out.

It wasn’t like he wanted to crush his best friend’s hopes and dreams, but it really had been a long time, and your memories of him (if you had any to begin with) probably weren’t the best. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault, Steve knew that he was just as oblivious to the situation as everyone else had been at the time, but he doubted it mattered very much to you.  

Bucky’s heart clenched at the thought. He remembered a time when he’d tell his parents he was studying at the library just so he could make sure you got home safely after your shift. You worked there every second day and lived in a shadier part of town, the type of place that was barely safe for a grown man, let alone a teenage girl, but he’d make that trip whenever he could.

“It doesn’t matter,” he decided, “I at least want to apologise.”

Your family couldn’t afford much, and the kids at school were cruel. Not just to you, but your suffering broke his heart the most. The worst part was that he’d never even known that his own ‘friends’ bullied you until the end of your senior year.

* * *

_In truth, he wasn’t the biggest fan of art class, but he’d taken it for a specific reason._

_He was the first to class that day, and not for the first time in his high school life, he wished that Steve wasn’t in the year below him. It’d been a long year, but Bucky imagined that it would have gone a lot smoother if he had Steve there to help him keep a level head, instead of the usual group that attached themselves to him for some reason._

_He was a decent-looking guy - granted, he didn’t think he was all that special, but the cheerleaders seemed to think that his dark hair and pale eyes were ‘to die for’. Bucky didn’t care much for them, but they weren’t completely terrible. After the first time he’d heard them making fun of Steve, they seemed to grow up and had even apologised for their actions. Most people knew not to mess with Steve, he was Bucky’s best friend after all, and they were a package deal._

_Steve was still wise enough to leave whenever his old bullies decided to join them in the library or at lunchtime. He just hated that Bucky was so oblivious to the fact that the jocks and cheerleaders he sat with were still bullies…they just didn’t target Steve anymore._

_And they definitely never picked on anyone when Bucky was around._

_A few students trickled into class, and Bucky kept his eyes on the door. He didn’t know how long ago it started, but it was the first time he’d had a crush this big on someone. It was taking months for him to gather the courage to ask you out, and if he was being honest with himself, he still hadn’t quite been able to muster it. But he’d start today._

_Today he was going to ask you to sit with him. He’d get to know you, and you’d hopefully be interested in getting to know him. Then he’d just ask you to…wait, what was he going to ask? A date? It was too soon. A study session? You were the smartest kid in class. To be friends? He couldn’t friendzone himself!_

_His heart started racing in panic, and seeing you walk through the door did nothing to calm it. You made you way down the isle. He knew you always sat at the back near the window, so you’d have to pass by him anyway. And you did._

_“H-Hey, Y/N.”_

_Bucky gave you his best smile, and you returned it with a small and surprised one of your own._

_“Hi.”_

_“I uh…did you want to sit-”_

_You stumbled forward with a gasp when something collided with your shoulder, and you did well to keep your balance._

_“Hey, Bucky! You would not believe what happened at lunch!”_

_A beautiful girl slid into the seat beside him uninvited, a beaming smile on her face, as if she hadn’t just made the both of them look like fools in front of you._

_Stacey was the cheer captain at your school and everyone knew she’d been trying to get Bucky to ask her out for months. But Bucky paid her no attention as he watched you dejectedly make your way to your usual spot while you rubbed your sore shoulder. Your eyes flickered over to him for a split second before looking down at your desk instead._

_“Mr Barnes?” Bucky turned to face the front at the sound of his name. He didn’t even notice that Ms Higgins had begun her class. “Is something wrong?”_

_**Yes, everything** flashed through his mind, but he settled for a shake of his head._

_“Uh, no, ma’am.”_

_The class went on and you’d all be painting that day. You were happy sitting on your own, you always did anyway, but your earlier humiliation still played on a loop in your mind. You never wanted to be like the rest of the girls in school, falling for the popular boy who seemed completely oblivious to the effect he had on people. His friends were a nightmare, but he’d always been kind to you. You decided that it was far too easy to fall for Bucky Barnes._

_The **one** time he tried to talk to you in school…you shook your head, barely paying attention to your surroundings. If you’d been more vigilant, you probably would have noticed the stray backpack jutting out from beneath one of the desks. _

_But you didn’t._

_You managed to keep your balance for the second time that day, but that didn’t change the fact that the paint you were carrying shot out to land on the unfortunate soul approaching you._

_Well, it was just your luck, wasn’t it?_

_“Damn it! I’m so sorry-“_

_Bucky looked at you with wide-eyes, half stunned and half grateful that a bit of paint had been enough to get you to finally notice him. Reassuring words were already on his tongue when he was rudely interrupted._

_“Oh my god, watch where you’re going, loser!”_

_Bucky’s eyes widened, and he turned to Stacey with a mortified expression. A swell of protectiveness rushed over him and he frowned._

_“Woah! Lay off, it was an accident.”_

_“More like **she** was an accident!” One of the guys from the football team chortled, much to the amusement of his neanderthals friends. _

_“Shut up, Lance!” Bucky barked back, a scowl immediately making its way onto his face. Where the hell did Ms Higgins wander off to?_

_“Lighten up, Bucky, he’s just messing around,” Stacey chewed her gum with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, “besides, she’s used to it, right penniless?” A perfectly groomed brow arched up and she smirked._

_Bucky could only watch on in horror as hurt flashed across your features before you silently dumped the paint bottles on a desk and walked out of the room. The words rang through his mind - ‘she’s used to it…’_

**_Why? Why the hell would she be used to it?_ **

_He shook his head and bolted out of the class, ignoring Stacey’s call for him to come back._

_“Wait! Hey, wait up!”_

_You were the only person in the empty hallway, so there was no avoiding him. He was panting lightly by the time he reached you._

_“Look, I-I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t-“_

_“You’re sorry?” You gave a little huff, eyes glassy but too stubborn for anything else. “Well, that’s a first.”_

_“What do you mean?” His brows furrowed._

_“Look, if this is you trying to clear your conscience before graduation, don’t bother.” There was a bitterness in your voice that he’d never heard before. “You grow thicker skin after the first few years. Like your girlfriend said, I’m used to it.”_

_With that said, you barged past a speechless Bucky, ignoring the sorrowful eyes that followed your every step as you went._

_You managed to dodge him from then on. Mostly out of guilt though. You knew he hadn’t deserved your anger that day, if anything you should have been thanking him. No one usually stuck up for you, but the humiliation brought out the worst in you, and you took your anger out on the only person available at the time._

_Whatever hope your mind had conjured was quickly banished, and you threw yourself into your schoolwork. Bucky Barnes would never look twice at someone who could barely afford a roof over her head. At least that’s what you always thought…_

_Graduation snuck up on him, there had been so much drama after he’d found out the truth and distanced himself from his old group, that he barely even noticed it was the end of the year._

_You looked so beautiful. He thought you always looked beautiful, but there was something special about you that day. Maybe it was because he hadn’t properly seen in you in so long, or maybe it was the relief that he didn’t recognise on your face…_

_Whatever it was, he cherished it, because that would be the last time he’d see you for fifteen years._

* * *

If entering their old school taught Steve one thing, it was that no one seemed to outgrow their crush on Bucky Barnes. Women, men, married, single, it didn’t matter. He turned heads without even meaning to, and Steve cringed _hard_ when he noticed the predatory way most of the women there stared at his best friend. What was even more alarming, was the fact that he was getting similar looks himself.

He blushed ten different shades of red under their attention, while Bucky stomped his way through the crowd, neck craning as he not-so-subtly sought out the object of his own desires. For a good while they carried on that way, Bucky weaving his way through groups, muttering a distracted ‘hey, how’s it goin’?’ whenever someone recognised him, and Steve narrowly avoiding painted talons that were desperate to rope him into conversation.

“Buck!” Steve’s shout was drowned out by the unnecessarily loud music, “Bucky!”

With a huff, he sped up and tugged his best friend back by the arm.

“Hey man, c’mon. This isn’t working. Why don’t we just sit down for a bit?”

Bucky looked like he wanted to argue, but decided against it when he realised just how desperate Steve looked.

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat with a nod, “yeah, okay.”

With a reassuring pat on Bucky’s back, Steve led them over to the edge of the room where the tables were scattered. Only a few people were sitting down for now, but it would only get busier as more people arrived. Bucky’s gaze swept over the floor twice more before he took to keeping an eye on the door as people came over to chat.

He could barely recognise a few of his old friends. Some had done well from themselves, others not so much, but all had been nice enough. Humbled by life, he supposed - at least quarterback Drew was. He was sporting an impressive beer-gut these days, but he’d never looked happier than when he harped on about his wife (who seemed like a real sweetheart) and his ‘rugrats’ as he called them.    

Ten minutes passed, twenty, thirty even, before Bucky’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and he finally admitted to himself that maybe he was wrong. The stars weren’t aligning and fate wasn’t on his side. You weren’t there, and why would you be? You were successful, a hotshot lawyer was what he’d heard, you had better things to do than attend some silly reunion with people you hated. Steve was right, you were probably married by now, to someone who loved you and treated you right. Wherever you were, Bucky just hoped you were happy.

Steve watched as his best friend’s mood took a swan dive.

“I’m sorry, Buck.” he gave Bucky’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, but Bucky barely forced a smile.

“Ah ’s’alright. It was wishful thinking, right?”

“Bucky-“ Steve tried.

“I’m gonna get some air, don’t miss me too much.” Bucky shot him a tight-lipped smile and left before Steve could get another word out.

* * *

You hated this.

High school was not a fun time for you, and even though you moved on long ago, there was a part of you that wanted to see it all one more time. Your best friend convinced you that it might be a good idea, to clear the air and to finally put that chapter of your life to rest.

Gamora was always the voice of reason.

So you’d agreed, and now here you were, avoiding everyone and everything anyway.

Music could be heard from down the hallway, but you hadn’t bothered heading down there just yet. What you really wanted to see was the one place you’d escape to every lunchtime and free period. Your old art room.

It looked just like you remembered, but they had left all of the old A3 binders Ms Higgins once stored your work in, out on each student’s desk. It was a nice surprise, and you found yourself smiling as you made your way over to your usual seat.

You flipped through the pages, cringing whenever you thought of just how much better you were at art now. You used to be so proud of your work, but you didn’t even recognise some of the faces you’d drawn. There was only one you’d ever spent more time than was necessary on. You smiled at the memory of him…

* * *

_He never spent time with you outside of school (or inside of it for that matter), but that didn’t mean he never saw you. You worked at the small local library and even though Bucky would never admit it to anyone, he wouldn’t have stepped foot in the building if it wasn’t for you._

_You never spoke to each other though, not really._

_He’d come in to study when it was too loud at home - or when he just wanted to see you. You’d sit behind the counter studying when you weren’t busy sometimes, other times you would be carrying a bunch of books around to return to their usual places along the shelves._

_Either way it was usually quiet, and he’d feel all of the tension leave his body as soon as your pretty eyes locked onto his own when he walked into the building. His lips would tug up into a small smile, and you’d give him one in return, before quickly looking away again. He thought it was cute._

_That day went like any other, but this time you’d been bustling between the shelves with a stack of books in your hands. The cart was missing for some reason, as was the step ladder, which meant that you were stretching muscles you didn’t know you had as you tried to reach the top shelf on the tips of your toes._

_You fell back onto your heels with a huff, before someone gently removed the final book from your hand, and slid it into place on the shelf. You quickly turned around when you registered the broad chest that brushed across your back._

_Bucky watched as you scooted back into the bookshelf almost imperceptibly, your eyes widening a fraction._

_“You looked like you needed a hand…” He trailed off quietly with a small and uncharacteristically nervous shrug._

_Your gaze flickered around the room, not daring to look at him for too long at a time, as if he were the sun itself.  
_

_**Pull yourself together.** You shook your head lightly and gave him a grateful smile. _

_“Oh, um, thanks…I don’t know where Ms Harrison left the step ladder.”_

_“It’s no problem,” he returned your smile._

_Your eyes locked onto his and for a moment you were caught in a strange stare-off. Both of you had plenty you wanted to say, and no idea how to say it. Regardless, the way he studied you with that unreadable look made you feel like he knew something you didn’t, but what that could be, you had no idea._

_“Y/N?” Both teens turned to look at the source of the small voice, snapping out of whatever strange trance they’d been caught in._

_“Hey, Harley…you need something, kiddo?” The little boy looked between the older kids shyly but nodded anyway._

_“Can you help me with my homework, please?”_

_You gave the 6-year-old a bright smile. “I sure can, why don’t you go set up and I’ll be right over.”_

_Harley beamed, showing off his missing front teeth before skipping away. You sighed inwardly and looked back to Bucky, only to find that his attention was already on you. You were half grateful that Harley had interrupted your awkward chat, and half dejected that the rare interaction was officially over._

_“I should probably let you get back to work…” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck._

_You nodded lightly, “Y-Yeah, thanks again for the help.”_

_There was an amused glint in his eye - all he’d done was lift a book for you, but he gave you a nod regardless._

_“See you at school, Y/N.”_

_You smiled shyly at the typical Bucky Barnes grin he sent your way before he turned to leave._

* * *

The noise of chatter and music died down the further he walked. A few stray couples had found their way into secluded classrooms, much to Bucky’s amusement, but no one stopped to chat or to bother him.

For the first time that night, he allowed himself to take in his old school. He wondered if any of his old teachers were still going strong, or if the students these days got into as much trouble as his own generation did. He doubted it. 

The hallways looked the same, and from what he could see, not much had changed about the classrooms either - maybe some new equipment, but the large _’T + P’_ that one of the older students etched into the bricks was still there.

A small smile settled on his face each time he saw something familiar, until a light at the end of the hallway caught his attention. It was coming from the last classroom on the left, one he knew quite well. Slowly, he made his way over, hoping he wasn’t about to intrude on another wayward couple.

The door was only partially open, and his breath caught in his throat the moment he stepped inside. The lone occupant of the room was facing away, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind about who he was looking at.

Still so beautiful, though he really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Y/N.”

“Christ!” You spun around, wide-eyed with a hand clutching your chest. He noticed the moment your fear gave way to panic, but didn’t understand why until his eyes landed on the binder flipped open on your desk.

He took a step closer and his lips parted in surprise.

“That- That’s not what it loo- I mean, it _is_ , but…” you forced yourself to stop rambling with an awkward chuckle. “Oh, boy…”

Bucky laughed along with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I kinda snuck up on you there.”

You waved away his apology.

“No, it’s fine. Really…I was just,” you took in a deep breath and cast a glance around the room, “reminiscing, I guess.”

Your gaze settled on him once more, and _boy_ had he aged well. That dark hair still looked thicker and softer than yours could ever be, and those eyes looked even bluer than you remembered. With a strong jawline covered in stubble, and muscles that filled out his dress shirt nicely, James Barnes was a sight for sore eyes. Then again, he always had been.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he nodded and his lips tugged into a conspiratory smirk, “a word of advice though, don’t head towards the gym unless you want to be picked apart by vultures.”

You laughed, “so nothing’s changed then, huh?”

He scrunched up his nose and shook his head, “nah!”

Bucky tucked his hands into his front pockets and moved to stand beside you. His smirk melted into something more genuine.

“This is really amazing, you know that?” His eyes were glued to the sketch of his own smiling face.

“Thank you,” you bit your lip, suddenly self-conscious, “I used to love drawing people, I just…I don’t know.”

“God, you must think I’m super weird or something,” you muttered, mainly to yourself but he picked up on it either way.

“What? No!” He insisted, “I mean, I’m honestly flattered.”

Bucky cracked a smile at the blank look you sent him.

“I’m serious!” He cried with a shrug. His smile was a full-blown grin by now, and you shook your head at the familiar sight.

It was so easy to talk to him now, like you were both two old friends having a chat. There were no ridiculous little rules about who was cool enough to associate with who, and it was surreal to think that the conversation was flowing as easily as it was considering you were never really friends to begin with.

You crossed your arms over your chest, a habit when you were thinking too much, but he mistook it for either embarrassment or discomfort. _Probably both_ , he concluded.  

His eyes softened and he jerked his head towards his own desk.

“If we’re sharing secrets, I think it’s only fair you know mine. Whaddaya say?”

You hesitated for a split second before following him over to his own desk. When you finally came to stand beside him, he slid a large red binder over. His initials were written in the top corner, and you looked over at him in question.

_Are you sure?_

He nodded with a soft smile.

_Yes_

You eased it open.

“Steve, he uh, he was always the better artist of the two of us. But he told me that it was easier if the subject was something you cared about.”

You flipped through the binder slowly, revealing page after page of graphite and watercolour, paint and oil, and the face you saw each time you looked in the mirror. There were colourful smiles, monochrome frowns, and every emotion in between.  

“Never really managed to do you justice…”

It was overwhelming at first, the thought that he - Bucky Barnes, the most adored boy at your school back in those days - even knew your name at the time. But this? The way he captured your every emotion in every colour, and had taken the time to do so over and over again…there were no words.

“I don’t,” You shook your head slowly, “know what to say…”

“I had the biggest crush on you,” he blushed, looking down at his shoes, “and I know it’s overdue, but I want to apologise.”

Your head tilted in confusion, finally tearing your eyes away from the pages, and he heaved a sigh.

“I uh, I didn’t realise it at the time, that those assholes I used to call friends were treating you like that. It was my fault.” His jaw clenched and there was a pain in his eyes that you couldn’t believe was there on your behalf.

“Your fault?” You weren’t following his logic.

“I liked you. Stacey wasn’t a huge fan of that, and neither were her friends.”

Your brows shot up and he almost grimaced. He must have looked pathetic to you. Fifteen years later and holding onto the past. He probably wasn’t even a footnote in your life and you likely didn’t remember a thing about him. Steve was right, he should have let it go a long time ago.

“God, I told myself that I wouldn’t dump this all on you, that I-“ he huffed a derisive laugh, “-that I’d just apologise and let you be…”

He sighed, running a hand through his thick hair.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’ll- I’ll just go.”

A hand shot out to catch his elbow as he turned to leave, and though he could have broken the hold and saved himself any further humiliation, he stayed put.

“James, wait.”

“Bucky,” he corrected, as if it were instinct by now.

“Bucky,” you offered a warm smile, “those assholes you called ‘friends’ targeted me because they were _assholes_.” You said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He huffed in amusement, though it was more half-hearted than you would have liked.

“I don’t blame you, ya know?” You softly added, “I never have.”

He nodded hesitantly and your hand slipped down to his own to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Besides, Stacey and I are actually on kinda good terms at the moment. Have been for a few months,” you added.

Bucky’s looked horrified by the very idea.

“You’re kidding?”

He drew another laugh out of you. You didn’t remember the last time anyone had managed to do that as frequently as he’d been able to in the space of twenty minutes.

“Nope, I actually helped her with her divorce last year. She apologised, and well, she’s matured a lot since high school.” You nodded, almost proud of how far she’d come. Sometimes all it took was a little perspective, and seeing your old bully fall into a sobbing mess because of her cheating husband, had given you both perspective.

“Wow, that’s…surprising.” He winced when he realised how mean he sounded. “Sorry, I meant that’s great. Really.”

“I mean, Lance is still pretty much an ape so I understand your shock,” you joked and were happy to see the first genuine smile on his face after his confession.

You stared at each other for a moment too long, but neither of you seemed to mind. Whether he felt it too, you had no idea, but you weren’t in high school anymore and you were sick of contemplating the ‘what-ifs’.

“You know, I liked you too, back then.” _And now._

Now it was his turn to look surprised.

“Yeah?” He almost looked awed by that bit of information.

“Yeah,” you tried to suppress your grin with little success, “and…I know this might be a little forward but, would you like to grab a drink some time?”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

“With you?”

“Um, yeah.” You nodded awkwardly.

He was so surprised that he didn’t notice how his words had come across until your smile faded.

“I’d like that,” he quickly reassured, before pausing “you’re…you’re not married, are you?”

Ah jeez. Why did he ask that? Stupid Steve and his stupid theoretical husband! Why would you ask him for a drink if you were married? You weren’t that kind of girl!

You cocked a brow in amusement, “well, yeah. But my husband doesn’t have to know.”

Bucky froze, and he swore that his heart stopped.

“I’m kidding…”

And started again. You chuckled at the obvious slump of his shoulders.

“Jesus, woman…” he gave your hand a squeeze with a relieved smile, “don’t even joke about that!”

You looked entirely too pleased with yourself as you bumped his shoulder with your own.

“We’ll call it even for the heart attack you gave me earlier.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes in good humour and they caught a glimpse of the clock, “you know, it’s only 8…we don’t have to wait for those drinks.”

“True…” you pursed your lips and nodded, “And who even likes reunions anyway?”

“No one I’ve ever met,” he added matter-of-factly, offering a hand.

You scooped his artwork up with your right arm and let him drag you out of the room with your left. Loud laughter rang out through the hallway as you raced to the exit hand-in-hand, before anyone spotted you.

Neither of you seemed to notice Steve step out of the stuffy gymnasium, nor the small smile on his face as he watch his best friend run through the halls like a teenager. He imagined what a stern-faced Ms Higgins would say if she could see you now. Steve jumped as a loud shriek filled the air, but Bucky merely howled like a hyena and doubled back to fetch the heel that had flown off in your great escape.

You slipped your other shoe off but he was having none of it, opting to scoop you up and carry you out himself. Steve shook his head, and fished his phone out of his pocket.

_Heading home early, pal…enjoy the rest of your night._

* * *

**It’s so late, please let me know if you see any mistakes? Thank you for reading! xx**


	14. Reassurance - Bucky Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Hey! Could you do a Police AU! Chubby!Bucky x Reader where a new member of the team makes Bucky uneasy bc he is conventionally attractive and seems to get along really well with his girlfriend?
> 
> Hey everyone! Sorry I’ve been MIA, Endgame wrecked me so I took a break from writing Marvel because I knew everything would just be ANGST haha! Hope you’re all well, and thank you to the lovely reader who requested this. Hope it’s alright! 
> 
> Working on the other requests, sorry it's taking so long...

_“Damn. Who’s that?”_

_“Who? Oh! Oh my god, it’s **him**!”_

Detective Bucky Barnes rolled his eyes with an annoyed sigh. He wouldn’t say that he hated the new interns…but _god_ , did he hate their constant chatter. Work talk? Fine, he could deal with some brainstorming sessions. But the constant string of gossip being broadcast beside him was getting real annoying.

He didn’t know what he’d done to ensure that they were seated directly beside him, but he was one _‘Oh my god, Shelley! That shirt is sooo cute!’_ away from kicking down the door to Steve’s office and demanding their relocation…and it was only day _three_.

_“He’s so hot…”_

_“Right? I’m so jealous. The things I’d do to him…”_

Bucky grimaced, the grip around his pen tightening uncomfortably with every word.

A familiar laugh rang out and Bucky groaned. It was a laugh that he could -and always _would_ \- pick out in a crowd. He loved that laugh, and he’d been loving it for a very long time. This paperwork wasn’t going to finish itself, but how the hell was he supposed to focus on it now that he knew you’d stepped into the room?

His pale eyes flickered away from his paperwork no matter how much he told himself he needed to concentrate. Your relationship wasn’t meant to get in the way of work, _but there it goes_ , he thought, _doing exactly that_. He felt all of the tension leave his shoulders at the sight of you. You had a glowing smile on your face, the kind that made his palms sweat before he’d mustered up the courage to ask you out the first time. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but the memory of your voice in his head chased away the sound of gossip that had been grating on his last nerve for the past hour.

Against all odds, he felt a smile tug at his lips, threatening to beat his bad mood out of him. That was until he glanced over at who you were talking to. His smile fell. At least he knew who the interns were talking about now. Steve had assigned you your own newbie a few weeks ago and Bucky wouldn’t pretend that he approved of the match.

He was a good-looking guy, that much was true. Tall, dark, and handsome, that’s what your friend Natasha would have called him…and Bucky had never felt more self-conscious in his life.

The Adonis talking to his girl had muscle on top of muscle. He didn’t have that little bit of fat under his chin like Bucky did, and the outline of his abs could easily be seen through the skin-tight tee he was wearing. You kept your eyes strictly on the man’s face, and Bucky should have felt reassured, but all he could process at the moment was his own inadequacy.

Bucky looked down at his shirt, at the way his own stomach lightly strained against the buttons when he sat down. He was aware of the way his shirts were becoming tighter and tighter around his biceps than ever before - and _not_ because he’d been working out.

_Oh man…_

Maybe he’d let himself go a little, but he hadn’t realised just how much until he saw you standing there next to Mr Crossfit across the room. Bucky frowned. You were smiling politely, with a laugh bursting out here and there, whenever he said something that was apparently funny.

Bucky frowned _harder_.

Standing there next to him, you looked…good.

You looked good _together_. He was everything a girl could ever want in a guy. Charming, funny, kind, and shaped like a damn statue. Worry churned in Bucky’s gut. What if he was interested in _you?_ He sure seemed to enjoy spending time with you. How was Bucky supposed to compete with 6+ feet of tanned muscle, the likes of which he’d never had even when he was still in shape?

More importantly, how were _you_ supposed to resist that? What if you were interested in _him?_

Everyone knew that Bucky only had eyes for you. You were his world and there was nothing more beautiful to him than seeing your face first thing in the morning. You’d been together for two years now, but you’d been friends a lot longer. It was his best friend, Steve (now Captain of the precinct) who originally told him about your ‘obvious’ feelings. Apparently, he was the only one who hadn’t noticed that you looked at him with the same awe and devotion he specifically reserved for you.  

Fast forward two years and he was hiding a velvet box in his sock drawer, and carrying a few extra pounds around his waist. Now his worry was if you would accept the former if he had the latter.

Before his mind could slip further down the rabbit hole, a paper bag was gently placed on his desk.

“Hi, hon! Here, I got your favourite.”

You gave him that special smile you saved just for him, and even if he didn’t have a genuine one in him at the moment, he’d force a smile for you if it was the last thing he did. And he did, even if you’d always said that _a forced smile is always worse than a frown_. He eyed the paper bag and tried to ignore the addictive aroma that always made his mouth water. His stomach grumbled and he almost grimaced all over again when you both looked down at it.

“Thank you…” he said, crossing his arms on top of his desk in a poor attempt at hiding it from your view.

You frowned. He was curling in on himself, and never in the whole time you’d known him, had he looked so small. Detective Barnes was a confident guy. He was the most successful detective in the precinct, hell, in the whole of New York. He was a good-looking guy, and had the personality to match. But now…he looked scared, terrified even.

“Bucky, are you oka-“

He shot up from his seat, startling both you and the interns a desk over from him. He shot you an apologetic look.

“Sorry…I uh, I just…I gotta go to the bathroom real quick.”

He didn’t wait for a response, darting away from his desk and hating himself even more for the confusion he heard in your voice when you called after him.

The door to the men’s room collided against the wall with a loud bang, and Bucky marched over to the taps. He slapped some cold water onto his face and braced his hands on either side of the basin, his head bowed between them. _Deep breaths. One, two, three…_

The door to the men’s room squeaked open but Bucky paid it no mind.

“Um…sir?”

Bucky’s head shot up and he looked at the intruder with wide eyes.

It was _him_.

Bucky felt jealousy rear its ugly head.

“What?” His voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat when Adonis flinched. He was _a lot_ younger than Bucky first thought.

“Sorry…” Bucky gave him a small half-hearted smile.

He smiled back.

“No problem, sir.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and Bucky almost gaped. He didn’t know that Adonis even knew what nerves were. “I uh, I was just talking to your wife…”

Bucky didn’t correct him, feeling a swell of pride replace his envy. _Yes, mine. My wife._

“She’s been a huge help, really, I get a little anxious sometimes and she’s helped me keep a level head, you know?” He was rambling now, and Bucky’s eyes softened. He looked like a nervous little kid in a gigantic body.

“I’ve been trying to kinda get myself to talk to you for a little while now, but I guess I was worried about what you’d say.” He heaved a deep breath and for the first time since they’d met, Bucky shot him a genuine smile.

“I know you’ll have a spot available on your squad soon, and well, I just wanted you know that it’s been a dream of mine to be mentored by you…unless- unless you already have someone.” He added, wide eyed.  

Bucky’s brows shot up in surprise. Of all the things he’d expected him to say, that hadn’t even come close to the list. This guy…he looked up to _him?_

“Oh, wow…uh, no. I don’t have anyone in mind.” Bucky chuckled at the spark of hope in the kid’s eyes.

“Tell you what, why don’t you get my details from my wife and we’ll schedule a meeting at, uh…at a better time.” Bucky gestured to the bathroom and they shared a laugh.

“Yeah- yes, no problem!” Adonis nodded. “I hope you feel better soon, sir!”

He shot Bucky one last grin before he left.

Bucky sighed and looked at his reflection in the mirror. In a way, he was grateful. The kid had been a distraction he didn’t know he’d needed.

* * *

“Nuh-uh, nope. I don’t think so!”

Bucky winced at the determination in your tone and he knew there was no way he was getting out of this one. Your hand grasped his elbow as soon as he left the bathroom and you dragged him into the empty break room. He’d almost forgotten about how he left you at his desk.

“Sit.” You pointed at the couch.

He did, and you sat beside him.

“Now, what’s going on?” You gnawed at your bottom lip in worry, turning to face him.  

Bucky didn’t meet your eye, his mind once again trudging up all of the doubts he’d tried and failed to bury in the bathroom. God, why did he have to care about this? Why did anyone have to care about what they looked like? He got you all worked up and worried for what? His own insecurity?

“It- It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid.” He shook his head.

“Hey,” you frowned, “it’s not stupid and if it matters to you then it matters to me.”

“Come on, Buck…talk to me.” You pleaded.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. He couldn’t leave it like this. You’d be confused, your confusion would lead to sadness, and sadness was not something he liked seeing you wear.

“Do you think I’m fat?”

You blinked. That was…not what you’d expected. With the panic you’d seen on his face earlier, you’d feared that someone was sending death threats to him again or something.

“What?” You shook your head.

“I just, I see you and Adonis over there,” he jerked his head in your intern’s direction, “and he looks…well, he looks a hell of a lot better than I do.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, but it came to a quick halt the moment you noticed a small frown on his face as he eyed your intern. This really bothered him.

“Babe, look at me.” You didn’t give him much of a choice anyway, with your hand cupping his cheek.

Your heart broke at the insecurity you could see in his sad eyes.

“I _love_ you,” you couldn’t stress it enough, “more than anything, and I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“I didn’t fall for your abs, or your biceps, or whatever it is you think makes _him_ desirable,” you shook your head with a quiet scoff. There was a slight shift in his expression, nearly imperceptible if you didn’t know him, but you did. It was a small spark of hope that flickered over his face, a trace of that old confidence that you’d build up brick by stubborn brick if you needed to.

Your thumb gently trailed back and forth along his stubbled jaw and his lips twitched upwards.

“I fell for that smile,” you pressed a slow kiss to his lips, before pulling away and trailing your fingertips across his cheek “and these eyes…”

The reverence and warmth they held whenever he looked at you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Even now, when he was hurting and uncertain, he’d show you nothing but love.

“And that heart of gold you like to pretend you don’t have,” you teased with a wide grin, pleased to see that he was trying to fight back a smile at the sight. His hand gave your hip a light squeeze, a half-hearted and silent _‘behave’._

“But mostly,” your cheeky grin fell into something more genuine, something he couldn’t question or doubt, “I fell in love with _your_ love.”

“Hm?” His brows furrowed.

“Do you love me, Bucky?”

“More than anything.” His answer was instant.

“I _know_ , you show me every single day.” _That’s exactly the point._

“There is no better feeling in the world than knowing you are loved and appreciated,” your smile fell, “and obviously I haven’t been doing a very good job of making you see that if you have these doubts…”

His eyes widened.

“No! That’s not…you’re- you’re perfect,” this time his hands were cupping your face, “I don’t doubt that you love me, I know you do…I just,” he sighed.

“I just thought that maybe you could do better,” he avoided your shocked gaze, “maybe I’m holding you back.”

Your hands came up to give his wrists a reassuring squeeze.

“There’s _nowhere_ I’d rather be, and no one I’d rather have. I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

His heart swelled in his chest and he took a deep shuddering breath. He really needed to hear that. He already knew it, but he needed to hear it.

“I love you.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You smiled, “I love you, too.”


	15. Changing Gears 2 (Tony Stark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I said one for each movie and I lied. Don’t trust me…ever. Here’s another for Ironman 1! It’s kind of all over the place. Let me know if it’s trash, it’s been a loooong time.
> 
> Also, my health has been a terrible recently so I'm sorry for taking so long. Fingers crossed things ease up this month!

Fear.

Fear wasn’t foreign to you. Your earliest encounter with it came at age 4. _Now remember, you stay where I can see you_ , your father had said, _and under no circumstances are you to go in the water without letting an adult know_. He’d given you a stern look, one that seemed more at home on Howard’s face than his own. _Understood?_ He’d asked, and you’d nodded.

But things never really go the way they’re supposed to. One minute you’re on the shoreline, digging a little pool into the wet sand, the next, the water is sweeping you away into its cold embrace and you’re left bobbing between the waves. The floaties kept you up, sure, but with each passing second the tide had carried you further and further from the shore, and your desperate cries for your father went unheard.

Or at least you thought they had.

“Hey, it’s alright, I got you. Just- just hold onto me, okay?”

He had no idea how to comfort a wailing child, but even at age 12, Tony Stark did the best he could. What seemed like miles to you (and was more likely a few feet), was quickly wadded through by the boy you’d only met once before.

He didn’t tell your father. It was a lesson learned and you were just a kid, he’d be damned if anyone punished you for their own neglect. You looked terrified and clung to him like a koala, he hadn’t left your side for the rest of the day. That was the day you became his friend. That was the day he became your hero.

* * *

 

That seemed so silly now… _drowning_. How could the fear of drowning possibly compare to this?

If you took every fear you’d ever felt, stacked them on top of each other and played them in a never-ending loop in your mind for the rest of your life, it’d be a welcome change to the absolute terror that had seized your heart the moment you’d been notified of Tony’s disappearance.

Naturally, the media had lost its mind as soon as a statement was released. Posters, social media, tabloids, the news; everyone was talking about Tony Stark - the billionaire, the genius, the national icon, in the hands of ‘the enemy’. Activists were saying ‘good riddance’, and weeping fans littered the daily news channels, mourning a man they’d never known…a man who you couldn’t - _wouldn’t_ \- believe was really gone.

_He’s Tony Stark_ , you’d remind yourself, _there’s nothing he can’t do._

Realistically, you knew that the chances of his survival were slim. Your overactive mind had already tried to calculate the odds before you forced it to focus elsewhere. There was still a company to run, reporters to avoid, a billionaire to find.

Pepper took care of the first two for you, but only you could help with the last. She’d been great, Pepper. A godsend. There were hardly any fumes left for you to run on. Sweeping the planet for any sign of Tony was draining; mentally and emotionally. If Pepper hadn’t been there to all but spoon-feed you and tuck you into bed, you likely would have ended up in the ER weeks ago. _I’m turning into Tony_ , you’d wryly thought. But the thought itself just made you miss the man even more.  

If anyone had it worse than you, it was probably Rhodey. He’d been more distraught than you’d ever seen him, and after all he’d experienced in his life and his career, that was certainly saying something. But it gave you someone who understood, someone who’d work long into the night with you to try and find a man you both refused to live without.

* * *

_“Why do you always make this so hard?”_

_Glassy eyes, pursed lips, drooping shoulders. You looked broken._

Maybe if he hadn’t been so drunk that night he would have understood what you meant. The alcohol never bothered you, not really. You’d scold him for it, take him home, tuck him in, leave Advil and a glass of water on his bedside table, and then repeat it all the next weekend. He’d take advantage of your kindness, because that’s what he did. He hurt the people closest to him.

He loved them, he’d do anything for them…but sometimes his self-depreciation outweighed that love. His whole life had been built on money and fame. He was used to getting what he wanted and the moment something threatened the status quo, he lashed out.

Years later, he would look back and barely remember that night. You hadn’t spoken to him for days afterward and that was the only reason he even cared to remember it at all. There were snippets of memories in his head; a man - a good-looking one, standing a little too close to you at an event, an irrational anger, an argument, and a bruised jaw the morning after.

He’d made excuses and begged for forgiveness, how could he not? Deep down Tony knew what emotion had fuelled him that night, and it was one he’d never expected to feel when he looked at you with someone else. It didn’t change anything, he told himself. In fact, he was hellbent on ensuring it didn’t. You’d told him to stop bringing his flings home, and he’d tried, he really had. But if he didn’t have them then he’d think of you, and he couldn’t ruin you like that.

So, he ignored your warnings and descended even further into his playboy lifestyle. The less he saw you, the more distant you became, and while it tore at him day in and day out, it was for the best. You’d both drifted from each other, but alcohol was the band-aid he slapped on that particular bullet wound.

You were the straight-laced, responsible one. You worked hard and saved face in the media when he inevitably screwed up. You looked after him even if it made your life harder.

Tony was a lot like you in the early days. He wanted to make his parents proud, but that all changed when he realised that no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough for his father.

Somewhere along the road you’d both diverged from each other. A fork in the road that led you closer to heaven and him closer to hell.

But after that night, Tony had realised that this was more a crossroad than anything else. You were too good for him, he’d never hurt you by pursing a relationship. He didn’t do relationships. But god, did he hate the thought of you with anyone else.

He’d be okay with not having you, as long as nobody else could have you either.

_“What the hell is your problem? What did you say to him?”_

_“I dunno what you mean…we were all ou’ here havin’ a good time, weren’t we girls?”_

_His entourage chirped like silicone baby birds, desperate for their mama’s attention. Your jaw clenched so hard at the smug grin Tony shot your way, that you almost chipped a tooth._

_Ten minutes ago you’d been so close, **so close** , to finally taking that first step out of the hold he had on you and agreeing to a date. He was a nice boy, a handsome boy, one your mother would have gushed over. But like a vulture circling its next meal, Tony somehow knew just where to find you. His hold was iron. Sometimes you thought that his heart was too, because no matter how much it hurt, he’d never release you. _

_“Oh come on, sweetheart…” Tony tried rolling his eyes but his entire head followed. “What, you think you were gonna live happily ever after with the baby-faced real estate agent? Really?” He scoffed. “You could do better.”_

_“Sometimes you can’t help who you love, Tony.” You’d snapped. You’d said too much, but he wouldn’t remember it anyway._

_Tony barked a laugh, and his baby birds followed._

_“Love? Who’s talkin’ about love? There’s no love here, no ma’am!”_

_They all laughed again._

_Your shoulders dropped, your lips pursed, and you felt the familiar sting at your eyes. You felt broken._

_“Why do you always make this so hard?”_

* * *

  
Time was a funny thing. All of those nights he’d spent drinking and partying and hunting his next bedmate seemed to flash by in the blink of an eye. But here, in the dark, in the cold, in the wet, he could have sworn that it had been years since he’d arrived.

He’d wasted so much time.

The pain in his chest hadn’t eased up, he didn’t know if it ever would. The Doc had done an incredible job considering the circumstances, and Tony struggled to think of a single one of his own employees who would have had the brains and balls to do what Yinsen did (mainly because he didn’t deal with his employees, but the sentiment was the same). Yinsen had saved his life, and if all it cost him was a bit of pain, then that was a pretty great deal.

The only problem was, that this place was hardly a place he wanted to spend the rest of his life in - however short that may be. The trauma was there, physical and mental, but he’d wrapped it up in chains and thrown it into the deepest pits of his mind. He didn’t have time to fall apart, not when they had a plan.  

“I have this friend…”

It was dark, but Tony could still see Yinsen’s head turn in his direction. So far when they settled in for some sleep - if either of them could even manage to muster a few hours - it was Yinsen who had done most of the talking. He spoke of his wife, his children, his home…better days. If anything went wrong the following day, then it was likely that one or both of them would be killed. If ever there were a time to remember what was waiting for him at home, it was now.

“Oh?”

“Yeah…she’s, well, the only real family I have left now that I think about it.”

Yinsen was silent for a beat.

“Do you love her?”

Tony huffed a derisive laugh.

“No. No, it’s not- not like that.” He shook his head, even if Yinsen could barely see it. “She’s different, y’know? Better than this, than- than me.”

_Glassy eyes, pursed lips, drooping shoulders. You looked broken._

It was silent again.

“I’ve known her my whole life. She uh, man…”

Yinsen smiled softly. There was a genuine smile in the billionaire’s words.

“She’d know exactly what to do. She’s smart, focused. Probably searching the whole damn planet for us.”

_You._ Yinsen didn’t bother correcting him.

“She sounds special.”

“She is…I still hear her sometimes. That little voice inside my head, you know the one?”

Yinsen nodded, his eyes slipping shut as he pictured his family.

“I do. I call it hope.”

Tony heaved a shaky breath. “Yeah…hope.”

He smiled. If he closed his eyes he could see the pleased look his words would give rise to.

“She’d get us both out of here with a paper clip and a double A battery.”

Yinsen chuckled.

“I’m sure you’d do the same for her.”

_Anything. I’d do anything…_

Yinsen hummed thoughtfully, and Tony had to wonder if he’d said that aloud.

“Do you love her?”

Another silence stretched between them as Tony looked over to their workspace. If he squinted he could make out the shape of their creation. The suit of armour that would take them to safety, to freedom… _home_. Or, maybe it _wouldn't_.

“Yeah.” He inhaled sharply. “Yeah, I do.”

* * *

Tony had taught you many things in life, but this was one of the most important lessons.

You remembered your first day at high school. A child genius, they called you.

_A prodigy, that kid’s goin’ places, I’m tellin’ ya!_

_They were right and you were young, but they also seemed to think that despite the label, your age must have brought with it a certain degree of naivety. The only way they could outdo you was with experience, and they used that to their advantage._

_“Watcha doin’?”_

_“Homework,” you’d answered, tiny hands moving a mile a minute to finish up before dinner._

_Tony had frowned then, not that you could see it. You didn’t see him all that often, and when you did, he could barely go to the bathroom without you trailing after him. This was…new._

_Even more unusual were the papers strewn all over the desk beside you. Louisa, Thomas, Jake, Allison… **Homework, huh?** Tony’d thought dryly.  _

_“Woah, slow down there, Speedy Gonzales,” He’d plucked the pencil out of your hand, and couldn’t suppress a smile at the wide-eyed look you’d given him._

_“Tony!” You’d shouted, launching yourself at him._

_He’d laughed; you hadn’t known it at the time but that was a rarity in those days. You wouldn’t understand it until you were much older, the way he changed around you, even then. The way he hid his sadness, his anger, his bitterness, from you. His childhood may have been miserable, but he’d never allow himself to be the reason yours suffered too._

_He would never let anyone hurt you. Except himself, you’d both go on to realise._

_“What’s all this?” he’d asked, finally prying your little arms from around his neck._

_“The kids at school said that the only reason I was moved up was because my daddy paid for it. They said if I was really that smart, then I’d be able to write their essays and get A’s for all of them.”_

_You’d looked down at your feet. Why did it suddenly feel wrong? Why did Tony’s smile suddenly look so forced and bitter. He’d scrubbed his expression clean before he looked back at you._

_“Did you doubt you could do it?”_

_“No, I knew I could!” You’d defended._

_“Right…so why prove something you already know is true?”_

_His eyes had softened when he noticed your sad little pout. Decades later it still had the same effect on him. **That damned look, I swear it’ll be the death of me one day.**_

_“Hey, look…I get it. I really do,” He’d squeezed your shoulder. “It’s hard, and big kids are assh- **ehem** , they’re **meanies** ,” his lips had twitched upward, “but you don’t have to prove a damn thing to them, okay? The only person I want you to worry about impressing in this world is you. Can you do that for me?”_

_You’d nodded._

_“Promise?”_

_“Yes, Tony.”_

_He’d cocked a brow._

_“What, you think I’m going to take your word for it?”_

_Your fist had shot up immediately, pinky finger at the ready._

_“That’s right,” he’d nodded. “You break this **very** official agreement and that’s it, it’s all over for us.”_

* * *

So, when he decided to put an end to the weapons manufacturing sector of Stark Industries, you gave him your full support. It was his choice and the world would have to deal with it. Tony had been different since his return. There was a certain blankness that would settle in his eyes sometimes and he seemed more aware of the world around him. He didn’t talk about what happened to him, and you wouldn’t force him to, but the effect it had was evident.

When he’d landed on that tarmac, looking worse than you’d ever seen him, you’d told yourself that it was okay. That he was safe. He was alive. It was more than you could have ever hoped for. Then you’d proceeded to burst into tears, and clung to him the entire way to McDonald’s, like you had that day at the beach so long ago. A press conference was called and he’d left you in the car with a wink that was entirely too confident for a man who’d been through hell.

_I promised you a souvenir…_

The stoppered tube he’d given you almost sent you into another bout of hysterics. But you were quick to get it together when you’d heard his announcement. You spent the next few days turning off the news whenever he entered the room, but despite your efforts he knew all about the world’s criticism.

“You okay?”

You lingered in the doorway of his bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and head hanging between them. He straightened at the sound of your voice, but the charade was already broken.

“Peachy,” he didn’t even bother forcing a smile. You made your way over to sit beside him.

“You ever just…? I mean, am I doing the right thing here? I gotta be, right?”

He looked at you with wide-eyes. They’d take in every inch of you for signs of a lie, or eagerly lap up your reassurances. You’d seen those eyes before; eyes desperate for direction, for a guidance he usually didn’t need. He was Tony Stark and he paved his own way in life…but the world was so far behind him these days, that he sometimes needed the only thing tethering him to it - and that was you. It always had been, and it always would be.

“You are.”

He’d released a sharp breath, relieved, but irritated. He’d been watching the news again.

“Then- Then why are people treating this like some kind of PTSD-induced phase that I’m supposed to snap out of?”

**Did you see that? Those are your weapons…**

“People are _dying_ -”

**In the hands of those murderers…**

“-I know-“

**Is this what you want?**

“- _my_ weapons are killing them-“

**Is this what you wish the legacy of the great Tony Stark to be?**

“-I know-“

“Do you?!” He snapped. “‘Cause I had _no idea!”_

His chest was heaving, anger simmering beneath the surface. You’d let him have this, this moment to just yell and vent and get it all out without having to worry about who would see or who he’d hurt with his words. He’d never hurt you, not really.

Slowly, the stern lines of his face evened out, his shoulders slumped, and that familiar look of regret bled into his eyes.

“I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry...I just…” he drew in a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to know that I’m doing the right thing, no matter the cost.”

“You know why they want you to doubt your decisions? Why they want you to ‘snap out of it’?” you asked.

“It’s not because you’re wrong, but because admitting that you’re right doesn’t work in their favour.” You grasped his hand. “People will _never_ value life as long as they continue to profit from death, Tony.”

“It’s not their names stamped on the shell…” his jaw clenched.

“I know, hon.” You offered a sympathetic smile. “But you’ve taken the first step in a direction even Howard wasn’t brave enough to take. So, we’re going to do what we always do. We’re going to fix this, okay?”

His dark, glassy eyes met your own and you smiled softly at the first trace of a small spark in them.

“Huh…”

You forced a shaky laugh, almost squirming at the foreign look in his eyes.

“What?”

He just smiled and shook his head. “Nothing. Just…I missed you, y’know?”

“Right back atcha,” you huffed a more genuine laugh this time. “I mean it, Tony. I’ve never been more proud of you in my life.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, and by the time you’d pulled away and risen to your feet, a pained look had clouded his features.

“Tony?” You couldn’t help but worry.

“I’m fine,” he smiled. It was entirely fake.

“Do, uh…do you mind just…” He glanced down at the floor as if ashamed to ask, waved his hand to the other side of his bed, and looked back up at you through his lashes. “Stay with me?”

The question caught you off-guard, but you couldn’t blame him for asking. When was the last time he’d gotten a good night’s sleep? Probably the night of the Apogee Awards, and that seemed so very, very long ago. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Of course.”

He’d settled into bed like a skittish animal, eyes darting to his bedroom door and to the wide expanse of tinted windows that lined his wall. The cave had been claustrophobic, but all he saw now were too many points of entry. He’d have to fix that.

Your head settled on his shoulder, and all - _most_ \- thoughts of kidnapping were tucked away for later.

“Y’know…Pep told me you barely slept while I was gone.”

“Snitch,” you mumbled, and he chuckled. “Yeah, I was a little stressed. Didn’t take care of myself as much as I probably should have.”

“I’m sorry…”

You squeezed his side, a silent reprimand.

“Don’t. You’re the last person who should be apologising. You have no idea how relieved I am, Tony.”

He was quiet for a beat. Usually he’d fire back a quip to lighten the mood, but not this time it seemed.

“I’m happy to be home.”

And he was, he just couldn’t quite voice that it wasn’t the safe and warm mansion that he’d considered home while he was in that cave. There were arms he wanted wrapped around him. There were eyes he imagined shining up at him. There was a smile he wanted to trace with his lips. There was a woman, right there at the forefront of his mind, begging him to come home…and he never could deny her.

It was jarring. He was supposed to be smart. He was supposed to be smarter than smart, and it had taken a kidnapping, a haphazard surgery in a dank cave, losing a man -a _friend_ \- worth more than any of the snobs he’d met Stateside, a fire-fight with terrorists, and a crash-landing in the middle of the desert, to open his eyes to the world around him.

**Don’t waste it…don’t waste your life…**

They could take his money, and his fame, and his company, and even his brain. He’d still have all he ever needed. Yinsen had lost that, it was why he urged him not to do the same.

But no, he couldn’t say that. Not to her, not yet. So he did what he always did.

“Pep also said that you slept in here most nights.”

You hummed absentmindedly.

“Kinda hoping you never outgrew that habit of sleeping in your underwear…”

Your brows furrowed, eyes snapping open to spy a grin out of the corner of your eye.

You slapped his chest lightly, mindful of the new addition.

“You’d only be so lucky, pal.”

Feeling his chest shake in silent laughter brought a smile on your face, and though you thought you heard his response, you were too far gone to care about it in the moment.

“Don’t I know it…”


End file.
